


A thirst for whiskey and gold

by hellomrschorusgirl



Category: The Bronze (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 06:11:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellomrschorusgirl/pseuds/hellomrschorusgirl
Summary: Soulmate AU where people see their whole life flash by before their eyes when they first kiss their soulmate. After Y/N receives word of her husband James’ death, she moves to Ohio where her best friend Karen has just given birth to a baby girl, hoping to find some piece of mind. Karen has asked Y/N to be the godmother and it just so happens Lance is the godfather to this little bundle of joy. One night, Lance gets drunk with some of his friends and they play ‘truth or dare’ which leads to an unexpected discovery.





	1. Chapter 1

Your order from Nikon hadn’t arrived yet at the office, so your personal assistant called you up to inform you that your presence wasn’t required at the office. On your last trip from San Francisco to Chicago, some lumpy tourist had carelessly dropped your bag with camera equipment in order to make room for their own luggage. A photographer is lost without their precious camera and so your boss gave you the rest of the week off.

It’s been a while since you’ve wandered around the streets of the city you were born and raised, even though you called New York your home for almost 3 years. And soon you’ll say goodbye to San Francisco again, moving to Ohio the first week of December. It wasn’t an impulsive decision per se, it had been playing in your head for a while now, but certain circumstances make the call a little easier. In Ohio you’d be much closer to James’ best friend Ethan who also happened to be stationed in the same convoy. His wife Karen is expecting a little girl and they’ve asked you to be her godmother.

It was nice seeing James’ friends and colleagues from the army again. Last summer, they were on leave and had collectively decided to spend their free time travelling from one state to the other. Most of them had girlfriends, boyfriends, wives and husbands that wanted to tag along and so you had invited them all over at your father’s restaurant for dinner. Some brought gifts in James’ honour, such as a bottle of his favourite whiskey or a copy of the books he used to read while they were stationed abroad. His spirit is what keeps the bond between all of you stronger than ever before.

You reach the steps to your apartment and fish out the key. As soon as you open the door, you are confronted with an abundance of boxes the movers still had to ship over to your new place in Ohio. After seven hours’ worth of packing and boxing up, you were ready to go.

***

“This is my friend, Y/N,” Karen introduced you to some of her other girlfriends that had gathered for her baby shower. “She’s from New York.”

“Well, technically I’m from San Francisco,” you correct the blonde gently, “But yeah, I used to live in New York, too.”

It feels somewhat strange, having to mingle and engage in small talk again. Usually you attended these kind of events with James, or as a photographer hired by the one organising the event. Now you’re the one making the social calls alone, but you reckon you’re doing an okay job at it.

“And what brings you to Ohio,” Karen’s colleague Melinda asks, fascinated by the mystery that seems to surround you. When you first moved to Ohio, you made Karen swear she wouldn’t tell a word about James to anyone except her husband’s brother who also served in the army.

You smile awkwardly, feeding them the same story you’ve practiced a thousand times before. It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either. “My job as a photographer. I was previously stationed in New York when they offered me a job in San Francisco. Then the office in San Francisco was purchased by another company and so I ended up in Ohio.”

This seems to satisfy their curiosity and they move on to the next guest. Meanwhile you go over to where a handsome waiter is filling up fancy flutes with expensive pink champagne, a million tiny bubbles occupying the glass with an effortless glee. Karen insisted everything, from the curtains and the rug to the food and drinks were pink in honour of her new-born baby Sofia.

I’m happy watching from the side-lines and Karen knows this yet still she insists I spend some time speaking to this one woman in particular. Her name is Hope and she’s completely different from all the other ladies attending the baby shower. With her tracksuit that appears to be an ode to the American flag, she definitely knows how to catch all the attention. Already on her fourth glass of champagne, her raunchy language has become even more offensive. Perhaps Karen thinks I can take her down a notch, or perhaps she just wants me to handle the situation like I always do.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” I introduce myself as I extend a hand to the blonde. Her ponytail is so tight it seems as if she’s wearing a wig. I wonder if she doesn’t have a massive headache when she lets her hair down at the end of the day, if she ever lets it down at all.

Hope scoffs and shakes my hand with a haughty look on her face, peering from behind her sunglasses with a set of piercing eyes. “Hope,” is all that leaves her lips. She’s got bags under her eyes and by the sound of it, she’s already pretty tipsy.

“How do you know Karen?,” I inquire, hoping to strike up an easy-going conversation.

With a deep, dramatic exhale, she eventually answers after downing a fifth glass offered to her by that same hot waiter I checked out earlier. “Gymnastics. She used to compete as well. Back in the day, Karen and I were the bomb.” Chewing loudly on her gum, she inspects me from head to toe. “What about you? I heard you’re a photographer.”

“I am,” you confirm with a short nod of your head, taking another sip from your glass.

Hope kinks an eyebrow at you. “What kind of photography?”

“Mostly on location shoots and event photography. I used to travel a lot for my job but now I’ve narrowed it down to portraits and some stuff for art exhibitions.”

“Fancy,” Hope hums somewhat impressed, beckoning me with her finger to lean in and listen closely. “Look, Y/N, you seem like a neat girl. Me and some girls, including Karen, are going to a bar later. You wanna come?”

You’re a little taken aback by her sudden request, but as you look over her shoulder back at Karen, you see her give you a thumbs up in support. “Sure, why not,” you finally agree, earning a pat on your shoulder from the blonde gymnast.

She chuckles softly, putting her hands back in the pockets of her track pants. “You don’t like it? The baby shower?”

“No, it’s not that,” you reply quickly with a shake of your head. “I’m really happy for Karen and I think she’s done a wonderful job…”

“I sense there’s a but coming,” Hope interjects before you can finish your sentence. “You single or what? Intimidated by all this pink?”

Smiling sheepishly at her, you half-expect her to apologise for her rude remarks. But you’ve already figured out that’s not exactly her style, which you kind of appreciate. Not a lot of people are forward with you these days, given your personal history. Nevertheless, Hope doesn’t know about James if Karen hasn’t informed her, so you consider her brazenness to be honesty instead.

Against your better judgement, you decide to let her in on the truth. “My husband died last June. He was Ethan’s best friend, you know, Karen’s husband. We were going to move to Ohio together and start a family as well.”

There’s a flash of sadness that vanishes faster than she can give you her condolences. “Sorry, Y/N. That sucks.”

“It’s alright. You didn’t know,” I reply as my heart drops to the floor.

Karen’s sister Mimi clinks her glass with a teaspoon and asks the attendees for a minute of their time, all eyes on the redhead Yet Hope’s eyes remain focused on you, intrigued to find out more. “How long were you together for?”

“I moved to New York for him, and I’ve lived in New York for almost three year. So I’d say a little under four?,” you whisper as softly as possible while listening to Mimi’s speech about how blessed she is to be Karen’s sister and Sofia’s aunt.

Hope settles into a sceptical expression, clearly annoyed by Mimi’s high-pitched voice, crossing her arms over her chest with a scowl. “He your soulmate or just some random dude?”

“Soulmate,” you mumble under your breath, careful not to speak too loud as Karen takes over the microphone from Mimi. As she locks eyes with you, you try to smile as happy as possible and give her an encouraging thumbs up.

This prompts another heavy sigh from Hope. “Lucky you. Still sucks though,” she shrugs with a tight-lipped smile. “My soulmate’s name is Ben, we coach young gymnasts at our own gym a couple blocks from here.”

“So I’d like to invite everyone for drinks at the local pub. Ethan and his friends will be there too and you’ll all get to meet Sofia’s godfather, Lance, too!” Karen waves you over to the stage and you shake your head immediately, your pupils dilating in panic. “Now I’d like to ask you all to give a loud round of applause for Sofia’s godmother, Y/N!”

You throw a quick glance to Hope for help, but she murmurs a quick ‘good luck’ and just looks at her nails instead and pretends she didn’t notice your anguish or just doesn’t care. You hate standing in the centre of attention just as much as you hate being in front of the camera rather than behind it. It’s your worst nightmare come true, even though you know Karen means well.

A couple girls give your back a gentle push and it’s Mimi who steps towards you to take your hand and guide you to where Karen is waiting for you. “Y/N and I go a long way back. Our husbands were in the army together and we’ve always been very good friends. She is my confidante, even though she lives miles and miles away. I’m overjoyed she has finally decided to stay in Ohio. Now I don’t have to worry about finding a decent babysitter.”

Karen’s joke is met with enthusiasm as the women clap their hands ardently, laughing heartily as their eyes burn holes in your chest. You’re highly uncomfortable and have no idea what to do with your hands, so you’re kind of grateful when Karen offers you the mic instead.

“Uhm, hi,” you say into the microphone, your voice trembling and your hands shaking. “I’m Y/N.” Turning to Karen with question marks in your eyes, you mouth to her a quiet ‘what should I say?’ to which she just cards her fingers through her hair and blows out a knowing sigh.

“Tell us something, anything!”

“Okay,” you chuckle nervously, “Well, hi again. I’m Y/N and I’m baby Sofia’s godmother. It’s such an honour to be the godmother to this wondrous, gorgeous little girl. When I first saw her, I immediately recognised her mother’s nose and her father’s eyes. She looks so much like them so I can already tell she’s going to grow up to be a stunning woman, just like her mom.”

The whole room goes ‘aww’, giving you a sudden boost of confidence. Scanning the crowd for Hope, you see her talking to Mimi in what appears to be a heated discussion. Mimi’s body language says it all as the gymnast flips her a finger and she storms off. From the corner of your eye you can see Karen swallow the lump in her throat, her eyes begging you to continue so she can slip away to her sister to see what’s wrong.

“Anyway, I’d like to thank everyone for coming on behalf of Karen, Mimi and myself. And Sofia of course.”

Passing on the microphone back to Karen, she swiftly turns it off and puts it away again. “I’m going to check on Mimi. I’ll be right back.”

While you wait for Karen to return, you see Hope has exchanged the champagne for cupcakes and is now plundering the cupcake tower, tasting all flavours and giving you a cheeky smile when she catches you staring. But as soon as you’ve averted your eyes, your attention is drawn to the blonde again when Karen grips her arm and yanks her away from the food parlour and towards a more private corner.

The gymnast is seemingly unaffected by Karen’s words and accusing finger she points very closely to Hope’s face. Hope bats Karen’s hand away and storms off, some of the girls over by the champagne tower looking slightly shocked by the string of profanities spilling from her lips. Karen apologises profusely and assures that everyone is served well before returning to your side.

There’s worry in your eyes and concern in your voice when you throw an arm around your friend’s shoulder. “What was that all about?”

“Boy trouble. Sofia’s godfather used to date Mimi and she just found out that Lance cheated on her with Hope.”

Your eyebrows knit together in a pained expression. “Oh no… And what did they say?”

Karen runs her hands down her face, her lips a little swollen from biting on them. She always does that when she’s a little jumpy. “I’ve known Lance for a long time, we even competed at the Olympics together. Plus, Ethan simply adores Lance.”

“But ever since Mimi and Lance broke up, it’s been nothing but trouble. And now this thing with Hope… I just want this day to run as smoothly as possible. I don’t need any more drama in my life, I have a baby girl to take care of and that already gives me enough sleepless nights. I don’t need to worry about my baby sister too!”

Karen’s getting extremely agitated now, so you shush her with kind words and a chaste kiss to her temple. “You’ll be fine, Karen. If anyone will be fine, it’s you. You’re a champ.”

“Have you met Lance?,” she huffs as she covers her face with her hands in despair. “He is one slick, charming bastard. But I can’t complain because he’s been nothing be kind to us. And underneath all that bullshit, he’s a good guy. But I just –“

She takes out her phone when she feels it beeps, her face lighting up as she reads Mimi’s message. “Lance agreed to talk things through.”

“Good. Good,” you smile softly. “So I take it I’ll finally meet him at the bar?”

“About time!” Karen’s mood changes instantly, that mischievous spark in her eyes appearing whenever she intends to play matchmaker. But the last thing you need is for Karen to meddle in your love life. “I know he isn’t James… But like I said, he might think he’s worth his weight in gold but he isn’t all bad. You don’t have to be friends just because you’re both godparents, but it would be nice if you’d get along.”


	2. Chapter 2

Everybody has gathered at the local pub after the baby shower had come to an end. The room was stuffed with friends from both Karen and Ethan, as Karen had invited almost the entire town for drinks. You were socialising with a couple of Karen’s friends and her sister Mimi, Karen throwing quick glances at the men around the table at the far back where Ethan has gathered with his two younger brothers and the infamous godfather, Lance Tucker.

“I’m going to say hi to Ethan,” you tell Karen, Mimi and Melinda after finishing the last of your drink.

Lance is sitting with his back to you and while you’re walking towards their table, he announces he’s going to get some more beer for the four of them. You just miss him as you embrace Ethan tightly. “It’s been too long, my friend,” you whisper in his ear, smiling softly.

He rests his hand on yours and pats it gently. “I’m glad you made it, Y/N.”

Ethan’s youngest brother Mike pulls a chair from a nearby table and offers it to you, asking you to join them in their conversation. “Sure, I’d love to.”

“So Ethan tell me you’re a photographer,” the middle brother Oliver continues, his dark green eyes a striking match to those of his brothers. “Why photography?”

With a playful chuckle, you gladly share this story with him. “I studied sociology first, until I was tired of colouring inside the lines. Then my father gifted me with a DSLR camera and I was sold. They offered me a PhD position but I turned it down in order to pursue a career in photography.”

You’re quite proud of the progress you’ve made and the words flow from your lips, your face glows in happiness as you speak of your one true passion. “One of my tutors eventually invited me to work with her for her show at the Guggenheim, in New York. It was a series of portraits from soldiers after they returned from the war. That’s actually how Ethan and I met. I took his picture.”

“Ethan never told us that story!,” Mike exclaims with an exasperated gasp, poking his brother in the side. “And he certainly never showed us the photograph.”

“Here I am, bearing gifts,” an unfamiliar brunet pipes up as he hands over some beer bottles to the three brothers.

Then his light grey eyes take in the lady amongst the lads and his smile, however smug, falters just a little when he drinks in your curvaceous appearance. Your autumn brown skirt falls just above the knee and your black, off the shoulder top showcases the beautifully soft skin of your tender shoulders. Entirely unlike the other girls he’s been wooing as of late, you’re a rare species he has yet to conquer.

“Hi, I believe we haven’t met yet. My name is Y/N.”

With a fine smile, he accepts your hand and shakes it. “Lance Tucker. Please to meet you, godmother of Sofia.”

“Nice to meet you too, godfather of Sofia,” you reply with a cheeky laugh at his answer.

Lance returns to his regular routine, after being slightly baffled by your presence at first, offering to buy you a drink as well. “A cosmopolitan? Or a martini? What is it women drink these days?,” he chuckles as he wets his bottom lip.

You fear you will need a stronger liquid than a regular cocktail if you want to master the likes of Lance Tucker. You give him a tight-lipped smile and you purse your lips as you speak slowly. “A whiskey on the rocks, please.”

He’s pleasantly surprised by your preference and releases a dry laugh, adding a wink to hide his astonishment. “I’ll be right back.”

Lance occasionally throws a curious look over his shoulder to where you’re waiting at the table, casually chatting with Ethan and his brothers. Yet at the other end of the bar is Mimi, the girl that makes his blood boil as much as it sends it rushing to his cock. Such a shame she isn’t his soulmate, but then again Lance doesn’t believe in that shit anymore. First he thought it might be Hope, his competitor and his sworn enemy, but when he popped her cherry he felt nothing as if he was numbed down by the empty promise of a soulmate.

He’s tried other women as well, shaking the tree with his glorious physique and picking some apples from the women that have fallen at his feet. But none of those groupies, gymnasts or just girls he picked up at bars like this one could satisfy his hunger for a match. So Lance gave up, until goose bumps rose on his skin when he shook your hand. You however didn’t seem to notice anything, so maybe it’s all just in his head. He doesn’t have a soulmate anyway, he’s done far too many woman for that to happen anymore.

Watching smugly how a bright red hue tints your cheeks as you catch him staring, a series of conflicting and inappropriate thoughts race through his mind, giving him a killer headache.

“She’s got a very pretty face. Such a shame that she’s put on all that weight.”

“Damn that skirt hikes up high enough for me to rest my hand on her knee or thigh.”

When he returns with your glass, you rest your lips at the edge while locking eyes with him, a smirk plastered on his face. Briefly turning your gaze to the other guys, you find them engaged in a discussion about which beer is the best in the whole wide world, Belgian or German, rather than paying attention to the two of you. As Lance takes a seat on the empty chair beside you, a little too close for comfort, he leans his elbow on the table while the tip of his shoe nudges yours gently.

Insecure about what to do in such a situation, you take a large sip from the amber liquid, burning pleasantly down your throat as a mild buzz settles your nerves. Is he flirting with you for the sake of seduction? Should you strike up a conversation with him nonetheless?

It’s as if Karen and her friends sense the mood has shifted at the boys’ table, because as soon as you finish your drink the girlfriends and wives move over to the back of the bar. Karen swings her arms around Ethan as Melinda presses a loving kiss to Mike’s cheek. Mimi stands awkwardly at Oliver’s side while you’re still pretending to listen to their conversation about beer, just so you wouldn’t have to talk to the highly frisky man at your side.

“How’s it going, guys?,” Mimi chimes up as she shoots Lance a deadly glare, immediately extending her dirty looks to you as well, causing you to shift uncomfortably in your seat. Karen shoves her sister’s side and whispers something reprimanding under her breath.

The three brothers bring their discussion about beer to the girls and they all roll their eyes at them, except for you who is mildly amused by this particular interaction. Memories of you and James resurface quickly after Ethan steals another kiss from his wife, telling her that’s just what guys do when they meet up, have very important conversations about beer and other booze.

James was a science nerd and he often took you to shows and exhibitions about science. You’re not exactly a science girl, even though you tried your hand at sociology. But the life of a professor chained at her desk analysing an abundance of numbers for her research just isn’t the life you’d hoped to lead.

Nevertheless you indulged your sergeant on these trips because these were the rare moments his PTSD wouldn’t kick in and you were free to be whomever you pleased, just a man and a woman or a husband and a wife on a field trip for some much deserved quality time.

“I guess we’ll leave you to it then.” Melinda gives her boyfriend a good ruffle through his dirty blond hair before taking your hand in hers and guiding you away from Lance, the much needed salvation finally there.

When he’s out of earshot, Mimi nudges your shoulder with hers and mumbles something to you. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” you swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes going from Mimi to Karen and back. “Nothing.”

Karen yanks at her sister’s arm and gives her a final warning. “Don’t be so jealous, Mimi. You knew who you were getting involved with, so don’t be such a bitch to Y/N. She didn’t ask for his attention. But they are Sofia’s godparents, so they’ll be talking to each other a lot more. Better get used to that, baby sis.”

Mimi huffs and apologises softly. “I just really like him. I still really like him,” she whispers regrettably.

Your heart goes out to the young girl and you give her a small hug to ease her lovesick temperament. “It’s alright. He’s very charming and very… intimidating. So I get it.” Mimi smiles up at you a little with a soft chuckle. “But I’m in no way interested in Lance Tucker.”

The rest of the evening goes by with hearty laughter, a fit of giggles and a series of snorts. You’re having the time of your life. But unbeknownst to you the three brothers and Lance are plotting to ruin your night, albeit unintentionally. It just so happens they’re playing a game of ‘truth or dare’, and the choice has fallen on Lance. Ever the cocky bastard, Lance chooses dare claiming Lance Tucker never shies away from a dare.

“Okay,” the youngest brother rubs his hands together as he tries to come up with a good, juicy dare for dear Tucker. “I saw how you were looking at Y/N. So…” His eyes have a mischievous glint when the middle brother takes over. “We dare you to kiss Y/N.”

“Wow, wow, wow,” Ethan interrupts immediately, cold sweat breaking through every pore as he realises this is going the wrong way. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Torn between telling his brothers and Lance the truth about you and your soulmate, which means breaking his promise to Karen about never speaking a word about it, or enlighten Lance with the sad truth and saving his poor soul from brutal humiliation and you from inevitable pain.

“Relax,” Lance insures his best friend, “I’m not worried. She’s a fine specimen, even though she’s chubby. But a kiss won’t kill us. Besides, I doubt she’s my soulmate and I don’t think I’m her soulmate either.” The gymnast chuckles darkly, patting Ethan’s shoulder before he can say anything else even though he knows that whatever further discussion will only strengthen Lance’s pride.

“Hey,” Lance’s sultry voice fills your ears, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

You smell the alcohol on his breath and reckon he’s probably had a few beers too much. Yet you follow him outside, where a cold breeze has settled in and caresses your hair. Lance offers you’re his jacket, which you reluctantly yet gladly accept. It leaves him in just his white t-shirt, snug in all the right places, and he rolls his muscles just a little for added effect.

“So what did you wanna talk about?”

Lance takes two large strides towards you until his chest touches yours. But before you can take a few steps back, his hands are already cupping your cheeks and his lips hovering over yours. In that moment your entire system short-circuits and your mind freezes, nothing preventing Lance from slanting his lips over yours and kissing your shortly but sweetly. His jacket falls from your shoulders as he dips his head and you stand on your tiptoes, a peculiar energy drawing you closer.

Upon that first touch of his lips on yours, images start to flash before Lance’s eyes. He hears wedding bells chime and the sound of a woman’s laughter, a woman with a striking resemblance to the girl in front of him. There’s a short flashforward of the two of you being stuck at the gym when a snow storm hits and you both have to work together to block off all exits and to keep warm.

Then the view becomes clearer and he sees you on your wedding day. He really wants to see you but can’t because it’s bad luck, thus you end up standing on either side of the door so you can’t see each other whilst holding hands. He’s so desperate to see you but you’re adamant not to let him inside, which makes him impatient and gives his sweaty palms.

And the visions just go on and on, how days before the wedding you find out you’re pregnant and you tell him through your vows. How you find out you’re pregnant again and Lance is at work, teaching a new gymnast who is too flirty for your liking, so you end up screaming “I’M PREGNANT” and Lance freaks out in excitement.

How you get annoyed when he misplaces your stuff because it’s funny to watch you pace around and it kind of turns him off. you’d be so mad at him and he’d give you that smooth, velvety voice and his signature smirk, sweet-talking you into bed where you make up.

One vision blurs and changes into another, where he recognises your two kids at the Olympics. Your youngest daughter won’t stop cheering for her dad and ends up running to him as he finishes his last set and is announced as the winner. You’re running after your daughter and the crowd goes wild at this little display of family affection.

Little does he know that you’re experiencing the same visions. Starting from Lance rubbing your stomach when you’re pregnant and later rubbing your baby’s back to sooth them to sleep. He loves pampering his pregnant wife and he loves soothing his baby to sleep on his chest or your belly.

Then there are images of Lance teaching his five year-old son how to do a tie because your son wanted to take you, his mum, to dinner. The gymnast pretends to be jealous but is secretly very proud of his son and you’re playing along because jealous Lance is such a turn-on.

And the last one is of Lance teaching your little girl gymnastics but she ends up hurt because she can’t do the move yet and so she cries and Lance tries to comfort her. His little princess is so sad because she wants to be just like daddy.

And just like in the stories, your first kiss sparks up the soulmate bond between you and Lance.


	3. Chapter 3

“Y/N, would you please let me in?,” Karen begs you from the other side of your bedroom door, her voice a tad hoarse from screaming at Ethan and his brothers for four days straight. “You’ve locked yourself up in there for three days already. The christening is in two. And you have a dress fitting in one hour!”

Your friend leaves a dramatic pause, pressing her ear against the surface of the door to see if she can hear you move out of the bed. But no such luck, you’re still firmly secured underneath an abundance of cosy blankets, with your laptop in your lap and your headset blocking out Karen’s words. It’s been four days since Lance kissed you, four days of avoiding any social or human contact for that matter and four days that you’ve been listening to the same song on repeat because it reminds you of Lance somehow.

“Y/N, please! Lance won’t talk to me, you won’t talk to me… I just wanna help you.”

With a deep, shuddering sigh you take off your headphones and close your laptop, struggling to get the blankets off you as your footsteps are softened by the woollen carpet underneath. While you turn the key in the lock and open the door to reveal a very distraught Karen, you see two other girls have gathered behind her, the redhead Melinda and Mimi with her voluminous hairdo dyed a nightly blue-black, both looking equally worried.

You immediately crawl back into bed, your three girlfriends each taking a seat on the bed. Melinda sits cross-legged on your right as Karen shuffles under the covers next to you, Mimi keeping her distance at the edge of the bed.

Karen cups your hands in hers. “Ethan told me the boys were playing a game of truth or dare and that it got a little out of hand. He wanted to tell them about James, but it was already too late.”

As soon as she mentions James, your eyes shoot from Melinda to Mimi and back to Karen. “They know, Y/N,” Karen whispers very softly, casting her eyes downwards as she squeezes your hands. “They know why you’re not wearing your wedding ring anymore.”

“Then I guess it’s time I tell you the whole story,” you exhale discreetly, “About me an James, and what happened between me and Lance…”

Your words shattered by Mimi as she mumbles under her breath something inaudible. Slowly getting up from the bed, she shakes her head and excuses herself. “Just admit it,” she laughs bitterly. “Lance kissed you and you kissed him back. It’s as simple as that. I don’t need to hear more about your ex.”

Melinda reaches out for Mimi but her hand merely brushes her arm. “Let her go,” you say to both Melinda and Karen, having noticed the tears welling up in Mimi’s eyes. When the door falls into the lock after she has left your bedroom, you smile sadly at Melinda and lay your head to rest on Karen’s shoulder. “I’ve been keeping this a secret for a very long time.”

“James wasn’t my soulmate,” you breathe out in a rush, feeling your two friends gasp at your confession. “To me, James is the reason the sky is blue, but he wasn’t my soulmate.”

You can sense the mood has shifted, an uneasiness lifted from your chest as your heart still beats in your throat but the weight of your secret has vanished. And then a flood of words follows, the need to let it all go too great to hold back.

“When we first kissed, I didn’t see any flashes. When you kiss your soulmate for the very first time, you’re supposed to see flashes of your life together. And James definitely saw flashes because he couldn’t stop kissing me.” A small giggle slips past your lips. “Then he told me about what he saw. Us moving in together, getting married,…”

“At first I thought it was me, that maybe I didn’t see anything because I was overstressed… or overweight. But then I read a column about soulmates in the same position as me. I read it was possible only one soulmate experienced visions and flashes when you don’t believe in soulmates. Which I didn’t, until I met James.”

Absentmindedly your fingertips touch your lips and you smile giddily. “But then Lance kissed me and… I saw the same things James talked about. I saw Lance propose to me, I saw us holding hands before the wedding while standing on opposite sides of the door because I didn’t wanna risk any bad luck. Yet I also saw much more than that. I saw my belly grow as I was pregnant of our kids. James never said anything about kids, meaning there were never any kids part of the big plan, the big soulmate plan.”

As your voice trails off and eventually fades into a whisper. Karen cards her hands through her dirty blonde hair and you can see some of her dark roots flash through her bleached locks. “Are you saying that…?”

“Lance and I are soulmates,” you confirm with a determination you didn’t know you had in you.

Karen clutches her hands in front of her mouth as her lips part in astonishment. “But how?”

“Actually,” Melinda murmurs as she looks at her hands in her lap. “There’s something called shared soulmates.”

Both yours and Karen’s gaze fix on Melinda instantly. “What’s that?,” Karen pipes up, her brows knitted together in confusion.

Melinda asks if she can borrow your laptop, saying she saved all her information in the cloud. “I came across this very helpful site while researching one of my father’s old cases,” she says as her fingers type away on the keyboard, logging into the cloud and searching for the right folder. “He is a divorce lawyer and last Christmas he told me about the hardest case he’d ever won, about a man who filed for divorce because he claimed to have found his true soulmate.”

With a small smile, she turns the laptop so you can read along as she explains further. “There’s a difference between soulmates and true soulmates. Much research has been done after the origin of soulmates but they have purposefully overlooked true soulmates. So when they asked my father to take on this case… it was a huge media scandal because nobody knew what to believe anymore. That’s when I decided I would do my own research into true soulmates.”

“It is rumoured that at one point there were more bodies than there were souls, and thus the universe decided to split souls in two to assure that everyone had a soulmate. This however caused a lot of problems, since both halves of one soul are each other’s true soulmate and this bond will forever be stronger than any other link.”

Taking your laptop back from Melinda, your eyes eagerly scan the pages for more information. “Even though it’s very rare, it’s possible for someone to be the soulmate of someone and the true soulmate of another,” you read aloud, Melinda nodding in confirmation.

“So if I understand it correctly…,” Karen concludes, her eyes still drawn to the screen as she tries to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. “You were James’ soulmate, but Lance is yours?”

“Exactly,” Melinda confirms before you can speak up. “And Y/N is Lance’s soulmate.”

“There’s something else…,” you mumble as you scroll down to the end of the page. “What’s this about, Melinda? What are soul marks?”

“Soul marks?,” Karen gasps as she albeit tears the laptop away from your hands and pulls it into her lap, reading avidly. You share a look with Melinda as the blonde gazes up from the screen with astonished eyes.

“What are soul marks?,” you insist as you nudge Karen while Melinda runs a hand through her red hair in thought.

The redhead clears her throat. “Nowadays, soul marks are a myth, Y/N. They used to be frequent when people still married their soulmates and solidified their link. But then more and more people had a hard time finding their soulmates that they ended up falling in love with other people instead. That’s how soul marks just disappeared from common knowledge.”

“They originate from within, which is why they’re called soul marks,” Karen nods frantically. “At first, it’s an excruciatingly painful, burning sensation.” She rolls up her sleeve and shows you a small mark, almost like a feather and very beautiful in it’s delicacy. “I know this because Ethan and I have one.”

“A burning sensation?”

Your mind races back to that night, when Lance’s lips on yours changed everything. At first his tongue would slide across your bottom lip and he’d squeeze your ass so your lips would part in a surprised moan, the perfect opportunity to dip his tongue into your mouth and caress yours passionately.

But then all of a sudden he’d pull away, taking a couple steps back as he groans loudly while a scorching pain takes over his veins. Lance then abruptly took off his shirt to reveal a sliver of his tattoo down below, but more importantly, of the string of red marks appearing on his collarbone, the shape of an arrow.

“Y/N… Don’t tell me…” Melinda’s voice is a hushed whisper as the laptop finds it way into her hands again and she clicks open the link to the page on soul marks.

You nod softly, grabbing your phone from the night stand and showing your friends the picture of Lance’s mark. “We didn’t know what was going on… I – I didn’t feel anything.”

“According to this site, there are three reasons why you didn’t feel anything,” Melinda researches immediately, keen on finding out the truth, her interest spiked by anything that poses a mystery. “When the other soulmate doesn’t believe in soulmates, which could be true since you married James and didn’t expect this to happen.”

You shrug since you’re open to the possibility, but know that somewhere deep inside you there’s a part that never stopped hoping. “Secondly, it’s when one of two soulmates doesn’t recognise the other as their soulmate.”

Melinda gaze over to where you’re pouting your lips, pretending to not have heard the second statement. Looking down at your nails in avoidance, you try to sound as innocently as possible. “What? It’s not that I’m denouncing him or anything…”

“But you’re not exactly willing to give him a chance…,” Karen chuckles dryly, gesturing to Melinda to carry on.

“And the third reason is of course in case of shared soulmates,” the redhead sighs knowingly, “When one of two soulmates has been linked before. You were married to James, and you obviously still love him a lot, meaning the link is also still very fresh. That could be why you didn’t feel anything.”

Something catches Karen’s attention and before Melinda can close the laptop, she beckons her to hand it over again. “But it also says this… if one of the true soulmates has been linked before, a new soulmate link will not be established unless they can convince the soulmate with no mark that they are in fact, true soulmates. If they fail, the mark will fade eventually and when it does, the unique bound between two true soulmates with vanish permanently.”

“W-Wait… Come again?,” you stutter in shock as the blood stopped rushing to your cheeks and your face pales promptly.

Melinda sad eyes lock with yours. “It means that if Lance can’t convince you that you’re meant to be together, you will just be two people without a soulmate once the mark has faded.”

“Hey Lance, check this out,” Mike calls out for the brunet from the living room. He’s got Melinda’s purse in his hands, a collection of papers having fallen to the floor as he wanted to move her bag to the other end of the couch.

The gymnast emerges from the bathroom, fresh out of the shower with drops of water still sticking to his skin. He didn’t want to spend the night alone at his apartment, victim to the soulmate flashes. So he asked Ethan’s brothers Mike and Oliver if he could crash at their place under the pretence of a broken heater back at Lance’s apartment.

“What?” His eyes quickly scan the pages, two words in particular standing out. “What’s this all about? Soul marks?”

“And something called shared soulmates.” Mike gently puts away Melinda’s bag and goes through the papers. “Melinda is very meticulous and thorough. She loves spending hours in front of her computer, just doing research and such. So my guess is that she dug this up for Y/N.”

The youngest brother hands over the documentation to Lance, whose mind is trying to catch up to all the information his eyes are taking in. “What’s all this crap about shared soulmates?,” he mumbles under his breath, immediately dismissing the notion. Y/N doesn’t have another soulmate, or so he believes.

“Soul marks!,” he exclaims loudly as he grips Mike’s shoulder to show him the right page. “That’s it! That’s what I have.”

Meanwhile Oliver has woken up from his afternoon nap, working most nights as a police officer and thus always sleeping during the day. He joins his brother and friend in the living room, starting up the computer and joining in on their scavenger hunt.

“Soul marks, right? Well, the first few hits that pop up is that it used to be very common like two decades ago,” Oliver says as Lance reads along over his shoulder. “But then modern times kind of ruined it. People started to forget about soulmates and marry whomever they liked and loved. Soul marks nowadays only appear when true soulmates first kiss each other.”

“But Y/N doesn’t have a mark. At all,” Lance whispers somewhat discouraged.

The brunet softly drops his head, until Oliver comes to the rescue. “It also says here that it’s possible the other soulmate doesn’t have a mark.” At these words, Lance’s heart is already fluttering a little higher. “When the other person doesn’t believe in soulmates at all, when they don’t believe their soulmate is actually their soulmate or when they already have a soulmate.”

Mike is quick to correct Oliver, informing both men that it’s not so much about having another soulmate, but having already established a link with someone else regardless if they’re your soulmate or not.

“Nobody can have two soulmates, it’s simply impossible. If what I read about shared soulmates is true, it is however possible that person A is the soulmate of person B, while person C is the true soulmate of person A and vice versa, A is the true soulmate of C. It’s got something to do with splitting souls in two because there were more bodies than souls and the universe wanted everyone to have a soulmate.”

Lance shakes his head, carding a hand through his wet locks as he secures the towel around his waist. “I think that Y/N doesn’t believe I’m her soulmate. That must be the reason why she doesn’t have a mark as well.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Oliver chimes in, closing the laptop and turning towards the two brunets. “She gave you a nice shiner, pal. I didn’t know she had such a mean right hook.”

Grimacing at the recollection, the gymnast drags a hand over his face with a low groan. Just as soon as Lance pulled away to inspect the aching discomfort on his chest, Y/N’s palm struck him right across his cheek. She was clearly very pissed about the kiss, but when she notices something was off, she quickly stepped closer to help him. But Lance is Lance and he told her to back off, yelled at her that it was her fault that he was in pain. And then she punched him again. Now every time Lance looks in a mirror, he sees his black eye and is reminded of how cruel he was to her.

“The soul mark will disappear again if you can’t convince her you’re soulmates,” Mike announces after having finished up on the final pages of Melinda’s research. “Usually this is like a month after the first kiss and the flashes and such.”

“So since the first week is almost over, you’ve got a little more than 3 weeks to change her mind about you, Lance,” Oliver says dryly, a wry smile playing on his lips.

Lance chuckles darkly, encouraged by both the challenge of winning Y/N over as well as the flashes that promise him a happy future, a future he has always longed for. “Lance Tucker never shies away from a dare.”

“And no woman has ever resisted the charm of Lance Tucker,” he mumbles as he walks back to the bathroom the retrieve his clothes, followed by an almost inaudible, insecure “So let’s hope my soulmate feels the same.”


	4. Chapter 4

You’re meeting up in the diner about two blocks from Lance’s place. He promised they have the best pancakes in town, so you agreed to have breakfast together and bury the hatchet along with it. The diner is completely deserted except for a family with three kids sitting in one of the booths at the window. The three of them remind you of Ethan and his brothers, but there are some features of the eldest that also trigger memories from James, with his wild blue eyes excited to explore the world of the diner.

The waitress gives you a big, toothy smile as she hands you the menu, telling you to take a seat wherever you want. After probably scanning the menu for the fourth time already, Lance finally arrives at the diner, about fifteen minutes late. He takes off his mittens as he rubs his hands together to keep warm, glad to have escaped the mild snowfall outside. His eyes gaze at you with intense delight once he spots you and struts over to your booth.

“You made it,” he says with a sense of surprise as he slides in the seat across from you. You smile softly at him with a nod as you hand him the menu. He’s barely got time to make a decision before the waitress is there to take your order, giggling at Lance with that sparkle in her eyes every girl seems to possess whenever they’re ogling him.

“I’ll have the banana pancakes with maple syrup,” Lance orders with a hum as he has yet to decide which milkshake he wants. “And a cookie crunch milkshake, please.”

The girl shoots him another flirty smile before taking your order. “I’ll have the blueberry pancakes with chocolate sauce and… euhm… the cookie crunch milkshake, too, please.”

Lance hands her back the menu and her fingers momentarily graze his, prompting you to roll your eyes at her giddy laugh while she walks back to the counter, swaying her hips as to inspire Lance’s lusty behaviour. Lance is obviously used to all this attention by now, but you aren’t and it makes you very uncomfortable, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap as you try to avoid that look of utter rapture Lance is giving you.

He reaches out over the table, a gentle tone to his voice. “Hey, don’t be nervous.” A tingling feelings goes through his body when his fingertips graze the skin of your hands and he can’t help but wonder if you felt it too.

Your skin heats up the moment he touches you and you quickly pull your hands back in your lap. Locking eyes with the gymnast as you eventually look up, your face falls in embarrassment as you notice the black eye you gave him five days ago. As if reading your mind, Lance tells you it’s okay. “I deserved it,” he chuckles warmly, “I was a jerk. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“Thanks for meeting up with me,” you whisper lightly after the waitress arrives with your orders and Lance insists to pay for everything, much to your astonishment.

“You don’t need to thank me, really, it’s nothing,” Lance replies with a cheeky grin as he settles in across from you. He notices your blush almost instantly, taking pride in the fact that he is the cause of your flustered appearance. “So let’s start with why you wanted to meet up,” he asks with that cocky smirk still plastered on his face.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be here because, well, look at you…” He swipes his tongue across his lips as he takes you in, biting your lower lip while suddenly feeling very self-conscious under his gaze.

He is really enjoying being the reason you are stuttering just a little when you reply. “I’ve – I’ve heard a lot about you. I – I know all about your reputation,” you smile back, determined not to let yourself be intimidated by his flirty behaviour. Yet you still can’t quite believe he’s sitting right in front of you. He’s so handsome, that much you already knew, but behind the charming façade, is there also a good heart?

“I wanted to talk to you. See how you wanna go from here,” you reply earnestly after sipping from your milkshake. “You’re my soulmate, I wanna get to know you.” The blueberry pancakes is a dish straight from heaven and you moan at the taste of the cookie crunch milkshake.

Lance also takes a sip from his milkshake, watching you curiously, mindful to keep his infamous grin tugging at his lips as it has always been sort of a safety blanket to him. Putting down his cutlery, Lance crosses his arms over his chest in defence.

“Look, Y/N, I am not the kind of guy to take girls out on a date. Most girls don’t even expect me to take them out on a date. They just wanna have a good time, maybe a couple drinks or go dancing for a while, but in the end all they want from me is sex.”

As soon as he finishes that last sentence, all your appetite is gone. Swallowing thickly to get the lump out of your throat, you eat the last of your blueberry pancakes and fall back into your seat. “So if you’re not the kind of guy to go on dates, then what kind of guy are you then?”

“I’m the kind of guy that also wants to get to know his soulmate,” Lance sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I just want to get to know you, Y/N, that’s it. I wanna do whatever you wanna do. You wanna go ice skating? Then we’ll go ice skating. You wanna hang out at the gym and have me teach you a couple tricks? Then we’ll hang out at the gym. Really, I’ll do whatever you want as long as I get to spend more time with you.”

There’s a heavy silence weighing down on you as Lance pushes his plate and milkshake away from him, leaning with his elbows on the table as he watches you intently. After a couple minutes of careful consideration, you know what you want but you don’t know if he’ll be up for it. Regardless, you take the leap of faith, thinking that nothing will be able to surprise you now that you’ve found your true soulmate in Lance ‘the fucker’ Tucker.

“I wanna shoot you,” you blurt out shyly, your cheeks tinting a vibrant shade of red. “With my camera. I wanna photograph you,” you correct yourself.

Carding his fingers through his messy hair, he feels his brown locks are still wet from the snowflakes. He really likes this girl, even though he has no idea why. Maybe it’s a soulmate thing, maybe it’s because he’s already fucked most girls in town and she’s something fresh. But then her eyes light up as she speaks about her job as a photographer and he recognises that same passion, that very same fire that has helped him achieve all those medals and all his fame. Perhaps you two aren’t so different after all.

“My editor tells me that I think too much outside the box, that my pictures aren’t mainstream enough so that I have to come up with a new concept if I want to keep my job. And you’re an Olympic gold medallist and competing again at next year’s Olympics, right?”

Lance raises an eyebrow at you as he listens to your every word. “So I was thinking that maybe we can help each other out. I have new photographs to show my editor and save my career, and you get the be in the spotlight again.”

At first Lance is taken aback by your boldness, but then the idea starts to grow on him and he agrees quickly. “Okay, I’m in.” He doesn’t need any further details because if he is being very honest with himself, he has already known his answer from the moment he sat down across from you.

“You’re in?,” you squeak in confusion, overjoyed and also intrigues by his sudden willingness. “So it’s okay? You’re in?”

“I’m in,” he smirks at your surprised reaction. He guesses it’s a little unusual how he agreed so quickly. But then again, Lance Tucker doesn’t do what other people expect him to do. He plays by his own rules. And right now he wants to get to know this girl better.

“If you want me, you gotta respect that I have a very strict training schedule. I can’t move any of the appointments, but I do have a gym session in an hour that is open for aspiring gymnasts. You wanna tag along?”

The brunet looks at you with a genuine smile, cockily winking at you when he sees your cheeks turning pink again, pulling his walls back up. “I just gotta pick up my gym bag at my apartment. You’re welcome to walk with me, it’s not that far. Or we can meet up at the gym if you don’t wanna walk all the way through the snow.”

You’re again a little intimidated by the teasing tone of his voice, but you don’t allow yourself to be distracted by it too much. He probably does this with every girl he meets. “No, it’s fine. I like the snow, I just don’t like driving through it,” you smile kindly, enthusiasm coursing through your veins at this new endeavour.

You notice he is pleased with your answer and that it obviously strokes his ego, but there’s also a glint of surprise to be detected in those baby blues. “Not ready to be away from me, are you?,” he asks you smugly, gauging your reaction, before he bursts into hearty laughter.

Biting his lower lip, he glances at you through his eyelashes, the cocky tone every present as he continues. “Fair enough. Let’s go,” he concludes and gets up from his seat, waiting for your to finish wrapping yourself up in a warm scarf before leading you outside, his hand resting on the small of your back as he bids goodbye to the waitress.

As you leave the diner, you unintentionally bump into him, your hands brushing and that unfamiliar electricity running down your spine. Instead of moving away, you gravitate towards him and it confuses you as much as Lance confuses you too. Categorising it as a soulmate thing, you apologise quietly yet wonder what it would feel like if you were to touch again. But you’re too afraid to make this too complicated. It’s too soon to tell if you really want to spend the rest of your life with this man, even if he is your true soulmate, so you push all feelings you might have away to the back of your mind.

The walk to his apartment is silent, very silent. Almost too silent. Lance wants to hold your hand but his mind is debating against it. He, too, is intimidated by your choice to go with him to his gym. You’re calling his bluff, increasing his attention for and attraction to you.

As for you, you’re extremely put back by his forward attitude, obvious cockiness and inappropriate sexual innuendos, momentarily hesitating and contemplating your options, second-guessing your decision to tag along. All those athletic, thin and undoubtedly beautiful girls will make you feel so insecure, even though you love your curves. But does Lance love them as well you wonder.

And then it happens again, your hands brush once more and Lance sucks in a silent breath as he feels that same, tingling sensation take over him. Yet again you move away from him very quickly, leaving Lance feeling a little empty inside. He doesn’t know why you were so distant but he is determined to find out.

“So… do soulmates hold hands, ya think?,” he chuckles while taking a long stride to be side by side with you. “I’m just wondering…”

“Well, I guess that’s what soulmates do…?,” you admit softly, remembering the first time you held hands with James, not long after you’d found out he had experience the soulmate flashes. “But you don’t have to hold my hand. I don’t want to invade your personal space or something,” you add immediately.

The thought of Lance holding your hand does excite you, but you’re too much of a worrier to say anything else about it as you walk up the stairs to his apartment. Lance fishes out the key while he asks you to tell him a bit more about yourself.

“I don’t know what else to tell you about myself that you might not already know. I’m a photographer. I was born and raised in San Francisco. I have a brother Jake that’s one year older than me. He still lives in San Francisco. I moved to New York for my job and then back to San Francisco, which eventually led me to Ohio.”

They enter his apartment all the while Lance listens intently to you talk. “So you’re quite the traveller, too, hm?”

He locks eyes with you and his heartbeat increases at the intensity soaring between you both. He has never had this much trouble keeping up his cocky facade that he carries around with him at all times. He has only known you for a couple days and he is already intoxicated by your presence.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you confirm, gazing into those blue eyes. There seems to be a gravitational pull between the two of you, so naturally you’re a little disappointed that Lance is the first to break eye contact.

You clear your throat as he looks away, taking in your surroundings. “You can wait here,” he says, waving his hand to his living room. “My bag’s in my room. I’m going to change there to make things easier for us. Why don’t you tell me a bit more about soulmates, too?,” he calls out while walking down the hall to his bedroom. He leaves his door open a crack so he can still hear you. And of course, Lance Tucker ain’t shy.

“Euhm… I don’t know much about soulmates either to be honest. I know that soulmates experience flashes of their future when they first kiss.” From the small opening of the door, you can see Lance pull his shirt over his head, his ripped abs on full display. Already blushing like a tomato, you catch a glimpse of his infamous tattoo as well. “And like a decade or two ago, soulmates had soul marks too. It was like extra proof that they were soulmates. There’s also apparently a difference between true soulmates and soulmates… I don’t know if you heard of that before?”

“No, I haven’t. I’m a bit in the dark on all that soulmate stuff.”

Your eyes wander to his bedroom door again of their own volition and you can’t help but gape at him as he’s changing trousers, briefly forgetting about all modesty. “So yeah,” you cough awkwardly, averting your eyes before he catches you staring, “That’s basically all I know about soulmates.”

The brunet wets his lips as he thinks back to their kiss. “Do you wanna play truth or dare?,” he queries promptly, that cocky tone finding its way back into the conversation. He chuckles to himself as he finishes up lacing his shoes and grabs his gym bag.

He meets you back in his living room, smirk plastered on his face, yet avoiding your eyes when you acknowledge his presence. How was he going to keep this up while spending the day with you? Every second he’s with you feels like he’s in a trance. Why do you even want to spend time with someone with a reputation like his? Even though you are soulmates, you are gorgeous and beyond intelligent. You’d never go for a player like he is known to be. He can’t even begin to describe how you make him feel. All he knows is that there is something special about this girl, apart from you being his soulmate.

You pull up your walls when he doesn’t even look at you after exiting the bedroom, his question still reeling in your mind. Nothing good has ever come from that game, yet you find yourself nodding a silent yes once he offers you his hand and pulls you up from the sofa. There’s that spark again but before you can tear your hand away, he keeps a firm grip on your hand and gives it a little squeeze.

“You go first or I go first?,” you ask softly, expecting him to let go of your hand by now. But he doesn’t and even moves closer to you, so close you can see the specks of grey in his blue eyes. Taking a step back only causes him to take another step towards you.

He’s all over the place, crazy enough to believe this game of truth or dare will help him understand his feelings towards you. Lance doesn’t want to let you step away from him, meeting your eyes with another question. “Truth or dare?” There’s no way you want to go first, but Lance isn’t going to let this chance go.

“I always go for truth,” you stammer, “But I guess this time I might go for dare. So,” you exhale sharply. “Dare. Give me a dare, Lance.”

Your eyes challenge him, or at least they try to as insecurity is seeping through every quiet moment that you share with him. You’re afraid of what he might ask you to do, especially since his smile only grows after your reply. Of course it does.

Grateful that you chose dare, he smiles widely at you. “Good choice,” he whispers inches away from your lips. “I dare you to kiss me.” He licks his lips once more, glancing from your eyes to your lips and back, entwining your hands. He moves his free hand to tuck a hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek, eager for that kiss.

“Oh shit,” you mutter under your breath, inaudible to Lance’s ears. You’re about to panic when he brushes that stray strand of hair behind your ear and you relax into his touch.

Lance’s thumb caresses your cheek and his plump lips look so kissable. You could just slap him again and tell him he’s crossing a line. You could just tear her eyes away from his lips and… “Oh, fuck it,” you breathe out before pressing a chaste kiss to his soft lips, forgetting about everything in that fleeting moment where even Lance is taken aback by your own boldness.

Afraid you’ll break he kiss before you give yourself the chance to enjoy it, Lance presses his lips to yours harder. He isn’t letting you get away that easily, going in for a second kiss when he swears there’s electricity sparking between your lips. Unlocking your fingers to place a hand around your waist, the gesture allows you to give in to Lance’s wish for a kiss.

Usually he’d push for a little tongue but now he just wants to hold you close, kissing you softly as he can’t help but smile into the kiss. “Wow,” he breathes out as you smile sweetly at him.

The kiss made your heart flutter, especially when he pulled you close to his chest, keeping you secure in his arms. Standing on the tip of your toes, you peck his cheek just because you feel like it, because you want to share this tenderness with him. You’re searching his eyes, silently trying to figure out how he feels about this sudden development.

“I’m not like the other girls,” you tell him sternly, hoping the message is clear. You can’t catch feelings for him if he’s just going to use you up and break your heart. Yet the gentle press of his lips on yours lingers, making you doubts everything you know about him. You quite appreciate this soft side of him. Sure, the cockiness has its charms too, but you’re more interested in what lies underneath.

“I know. You definitely aren’t like the other girls,” he assures you, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his cheek. He can’t bring himself to let you go, everything feels just right with his arms around you.

“It’s my turn,” you whisper gingerly,” Truth or dare.”

It doesn’t last long before he slips back into his cocky demeanour. “I pick dare, too. Lance Tucker never backs down from a dare,” he tells you with a wink.

You lay your hands to rest on his firm chest, your face still so close your noses almost touch. “I dare you to tell me the truth,” you whisper to his lips, looking up at him innocently through thick eyelashes. “Why? Why does Lance Tucker, a man of gold and silver, have any interest in me? You don’t care for soulmates, you said so yourself…” Taking a deep breath, you shyly avert your eyes. “This… this isn’t all just for show, right?”

Lance squints his eyes, looming at her in disbelief. “I never said that I didn’t care for soulmates, I just said that I don’t know much about it.”

“I don’t know what it is, Y/N, but I just know I want you. Not just because you’re my soulmate. Of course that’s got something to do with it too. No, I want you, I really want you, because you’re everything I’ve always dreamt of. Tell me, does this feel like I’m pretending to you?,” he asks you before pressing his lips to yours once more in a heated kiss, putting a little more passion into it than last time.

Pulling away to lock eyes with you, he cups your face in his hands. “I’m sure you know my reputation but you sought me out anyway. You reached out first, remember?”

He looks at you with sincere eyes, his gym plans long forgotten as his attention goes back and forth from your lips to your eyes. He has no idea what you could be thinking, but he wouldn’t blame you if you ran. “I didn’t think I’d be so captivated by you. I don’t want to play games with you, I just want to get to know you and see where this goes.”

“I know – I – I wanna see where this goes, too. I usually don’t kiss with guys I’ve only know for a couple days. But with you… I don’t give a fuck. I just want to kiss you.” Crashing your lips to his again, you emphasise your statement. Your fingers dance their way into his hair as you swallow the soft moans you draw from his lips.

“It’s because we’re soulmates. But it’s also because I might… want… us to be soulmates,” you promise as you gently break the kiss, his lips following after yours as you pull away slightly. “So let’s figure this out…”

You pause, wanting to say “if we can be together” but unsure if it’s the right thing to say, you eventually settle for “figure out if we’re good together and make this soulmate thing work”.

Lance could kiss you forever and it still wouldn’t be enough for him, overjoyed by your words filling his heart with a feeling that might resemble the beginning of love. “Like I said, I’m in. I’m fully in. You just tell me what you need from me,” the brunet mumbles you as his lips find your neck. “You are the photographer after all…”

Sucking in a deep breath when he nips at your sweet spot, he smiles victoriously for having found a weakness. “But I believe I’m next… Truth or dare, Y/N,” he whispers against your skin.

You sigh softly as his lips ghost over your pulse point, your heartbeat increasing rapidly. “I pick truth.”

Running your fingers over his plump, kiss-swollen lips, Lane smiles tenderly at you, happy you’ve picked truth even though it’s considered to be the safe choice sometimes. “Truth. Okay.”

He can’t help himself but he needs you to admit it, he needs you to admit that you love the way he makes that red blush rise up to your neck and cheeks. “Today’s about getting to know each other, right?,” he murmurs while placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Lance guides you back to the couch, sincerity in his voice as his fingers glide over your cheek and he looks deeply into your eyes. “Now for that truth.” His eyes glisten with mischief as he thinks about his question. “Is it true that when I kiss you here,” he whispers while doting feather light kisses down your neck and collar bone. “I can get you to go out with me?”

His breath ghosts over your skin, cradling your face in his hands as he gazes into those beautiful eyes again. “To dinner, a movie, whenever, wherever you want,” he rushes out, still afraid you would come to your senses and run out of here at any given moment.

Your heart skips a beat at his question, your eyes opening again to lock with his as you briefly closed them when he kissed your forehead. As he trails a path of kisses down your skin, butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach. “Yes,” you agree almost instantly. “Yes, I like it when you kiss me there and yes, I’ll go out with you. But I thought you weren’t the kind of guy to go out on dates?”

“I might’ve said something along those lines… But for you, I wanna make an exception.”

He dips his head to kiss you again but you stop him halfway. “Anything with wine is perfect. But first, truth or dare?,” you whisper slowly to his lips as they touch when you speak, prompting a chuckle from his lips as he feels the vibrations of your words resonate through them.

“Truth,” he hums as he presses his lips to yours while pulling you into his lap.

You smile in surprise when you hear Lance Tucker picks truth over dare. Lacing your arms around his neck, you make your boldest move so far. “Does that mean I am your girl?”

He pulls back to look at you with a smile that actually reaches his eyes. “Y/N, I want nothing more for you to be mine.” He kisses you deeply only to be interrupted by the loud buzzing of his phone. “Crap,” he curses as he realises he was supposed to be at the gym half an hour ago for his gym session with Maggie.

“Maggie, one of the girls I coach, is rescheduling seeing I’m not at the gym.” Normally he’d be angry about this setback since he’s known for being prompt, but with this setback also comes a major advantage. “Looks like I’m all yours today after all,” he winks at you while putting his phone down on the coffee table, screen side up.

“Would you like something to drink? Water, wine, tequila?,” he offers as he heads towards the kitchen, unaware of his phone lighting up to reveal several unanswered texts from Maggie and various women he’s bedded.

“Water if it’s just a chat, wine if it’s a date,” you chuckle, allowing yourself to slip into a happy daze. As he’s in the kitchen taking out some glasses, his phone buzzes again on the table.

You’re not the kind of girl to read a guy’s text messages, but as your eyes unintentionally wander to the screen, your mouth runs dry and you swallow thickly. At least a dozen girls, including this Maggie he’s training, have sent him numerous sexy texts and steamy pictures over the past couple days.

The familiar sting of tears resurfaces but you tell yourself you won’t cry in front of Lance, especially not in front of Lance. So you suck it up and put on a straight face. Nevertheless, Lance can feel there’s something off as the mood has changed considerably once he strolls back into the living room with two glasses and a bottle each of red and white wine.

“I wasn’t sure which you preferred so I brought both,” he says while setting everything down on the coffee table. “Red or white?” He turns to look at you, taking in the battle of emotions your expression is giving off. “Y/N? Is there something wrong?” He grabs your elbow to prevent you from turning away, gulping audibly as he figures this it is, you’ve come to your senses about him.

“So it’s a date, hm?,” you smile wryly before you snap out of your stoic appearance, the cracks shining through as you collide into his chest. “I know who you are and still I’m falling for you. I can’t help it. Yet all those girls who’ve been sending you these texts and pictures… you obviously slept with all of them, didn’t you? Didn’t you?!”

You shake your head, deciding it’s pointless to wait for his answer. “Lance, let’s be clear here. Soulmate or not, I’m not going to sleep with you.”

He doesn’t push you to look at him when you avoid his eyes but it does feel like a punch to the gut when you question him once more. He’s not sure why, after all his reputation is common knowledge. He’s got the choice to be arrogant, the person they’ve made him out to be, but in the short amount of time you’ve wrapped him around your finger and it makes him want to do everything in his power to keep you in his life.

“Y/N, I haven’t responded to a single of those girls. I don’t want to, I want you. I want you even if that comes with many cold showers.” He chuckles, grabbing your chin softly to meet his eyes, laughing but you can tell he’s being honest. “I’ll only take what you give me, but don’t pretend you weren’t ogling my tattoo earlier,” he winks at her before lacing her fingers with his own.

“Can’t blame a girl for being curious,” you grin at your own words, warming up a little more. He’s not lying, you can tell by the look in his eyes, so you make the jump. “I feel like white wine today.”

“And snuggling on the couch, stealing a couple kisses…” You stop momentarily, the playful tone to your voice turning serious. “Just don’t go too fast. I wanna take this one step at a time. Not too much touching. I know you probably want to, but if you want to be with me for real, you’re going to have to play by my rules.”

Lance is definitely not used to letting go of the reigns but he has no other choice if he wants to prove to you that he can change. “I’m in,” he repeats those words again and again. Smiling at you, he presses a kiss to your temple before he unlinks your fingers and pours the both of you a glass of white wine. He passes one of the glasses to you and sips of his own, sitting back and gently pulling your back to his chest.

“Is this okay?,” he asks you as his lips press another kiss to the crown of your head, the faint music from the jazz club down the street reaching your ears.

“More than okay,” you hum contently as you settle into his arms, wearing a soft smile when he kisses your hair and then that sweet spot underneath your ear. “Tell me a bit more about yourself, Lance. Not what other people say about you, but your own story.”

You turn your head so you can kiss the corner of his mouth, lips curling into a smirk. You might have him wrapped around your finger, you definitely don’t want to ask too much because you can never be sure if he’s totally enamoured with you or just very infatuated. Hopefully you’re not asking too much, hopefully he’ll stay faithful.

“There’s another kiss in it for you if you make me laugh,” you joke, winking playfully, trying to keep the mood light and your heart and mind focused on the positive, thoughts of James looming over your head. Should you feel ashamed that you’re letting Lance in so easily? That he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, not even when you were with James?

He smirks when he feels her lips on the side of his mouth. This girl is intoxicating and he’d never felt this content just holding a woman before. “Hmmm…let me see… I really hate peas.” He couldn’t help but laugh when he looked back down at you, the look on your face telling him it wasn’t at all what you meant by your question although you are a bit amused.

“Okay. Okay. I’ve never told anyone this but… I’m adopted.” He says the last part so quietly you almost miss it.

You put down her glass of wine on the table and take Lance’s, too, setting it down next to yours. Turning your body towards his, you cup his cheek in the palm of your hand, her thumb caressing his soft skin. He doesn’t look at you, awakening even more concern. “Thank you for confiding in me, Lance. But you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. Just know I’m here for you.”

He tries to smile back but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore, still avoiding yours, your heart breaking for this man you care for. Lance hears what you’re saying but he knows if he doesn’t tell you now while he’s opened those walls, they will shoot back up and close him off from you forever.

“It was hard,” he mumbles lowly, “Feeling like no one loved and supported you. Luckily I had Petra, my nanny. She raised me, while my new parents lived their own lives. She’s actually the reason for my medals, she loved the Olympics,” he sighs while remembering the only maternal figure he’s ever had in his life. "She was the only one who supported me.”

He finally looks at you, his eyes rimmed with unshed tears. You listen attentively to his story and as soon as you notice the tears in his eyes, you pull him closer and envelope him in her loving embrace. “Oh Lance…,” you whisper softly, your lips pecking his chestnut hair. “I’m sorry.”

You card your fingers through his hair, your touch soothing to his emotions. “I wish I could do something to change the past but I can’t. You should be proud of yourself, too. Through all the hardship, you managed to become your own person.”

He closes his eyes momentarily, taking comfort in your touch and your words. “Aside from Petra, I’m all I had, I’m used to it…” He tries to give you a reassuring smile. “I don’t know what it is about you Y/N. I want to tell you anything you want to know.” He leans forward pressing a small kiss to your nose.

“You don’t have to be on your own anymore.” Smiling softly as he kisses your nose, you then lean your forehead to his. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re the first guy I’m letting in as well.”

“About those other girls, Y/N… They meant nothing, I don’t know how to describe this thing between us but it’s nothing I’ve felt with anyone before.”

It’s like he’s reading your mind, every fibre of your body aching to be with him. So you move to straddle his legs, resting his hands on your hips and tracing his jaw with your finger as you marvel at his stunning features. “Okay. I believe you. I believe you, Lance, and I trust you, too.”

“There’s just one more thing you must know about me…,” Lance speaks softly as he averts his eyes, ashamed to look you straight in the eye. Better to get it over with now than Y/N hearing it from someone else first.

“I – I have a kid. With a girl that claims I’m her soulmate, too.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Her name is Adriana and she lives with her mother, Irina.”

You needed a minute. No, you needed more than a minute to make sense of this. One moment you’re straddling his thighs and cradling his face in your hands, the next you’re pushing him down in the couch cushions as you’re trying to get away from him.

“Wait – what? Who?,” you stutter as you’re stumbling, the back of your knees hitting the table as you take a couple steps backwards. Distraught and confused, you walk around the table, your hands in your hair.

“Irina is a Romanian gymnast,” Lance explains as his eyes watch intently how you’re struggling to keep it together. “We met at the Olympics in 2004. She had already won every national medal there is to win and was now competing for Olympic gold. And when she won Olympic gold as well, there was only one golden medal she yet had to win. Mine.”

Inhaling sharply once your back collides with the kitchen island, a sting of severe pain shooting through your shoulder, your body melts with the surface behind you. Lance notices your face contorts in discomfort and gets up from the couch, rushing towards you.

He tells you to take off your jacket so he can take a look at your shoulder. Reluctantly, you follow his orders and shed your jacket, revealing the nasty bruise on your upper arm. “It’s nothing,” you assure Lance. “I must’ve bumped into something yesterday.“

The gymnast doesn’t fall for your attempt to brush away the subject, instead inspecting your other arm and even lifting up your shirt to see if there are more cuts and bruises on your stomach and sides. Quickly you bat away his hands and pull down your shirt, giving him the dead glare as he shrugs and mumbles something about ‘just making sure’, his eyes expressing a deep concern.

“I’m fine, Lance. Please, I’m fine. Now, about Irina,” you press him a little harder, adamant at hearing the full story.

Leaning next to you on the kitchen counter, Lance sighs deeply as he remembers Irina and the circumstances under which they met. “I wasn’t supposed to fraternise with any of the other contestants but Irina got me drunk enough. I didn’t remember much from that night but the next thing I know she’s claiming I’m her soulmate.”

Casting his eyes downwards, Lance feels a shameful blush tint his cheeks red. “Irina… God, Irina can be very convincing. Back then I was living and training in Los Angeles and she insisted on joining me. My coach didn’t want a scandal on his hands and so he told me to take her with me or he’d kick me out. Then Irina said we were going to have a baby. Her pregnancy forced her to abandon her career in gymnastics and she still blames me for that.”

“How old is she? Your girl, Adriana?”

“Almost thirteen. Her birthday is in January.”

Looking up again, his gaze rests on your hand just inches away from his. Lance still feels that urge to hold your hand, brushing his fingertips tentatively while gauging your reaction. Much to his surprise, you don’t pull your hand away at once, yet give him a sad smile as you turn away from him and grab your things. “I need some time to think about this.”

“I understand,” Lance replies regretfully, reaching out for you one last time before you can swing your bag over your shoulder and leave.

With a pang to your heart, you have to deny him a final touch before you exit his apartment. “You’ve got a little girl, Lance. You’ve got a responsibility towards your little girl,” you clarify your lack of affection. “I can’t be with a guy that denies his responsibilities as a father.”

“Yeah, a little girl that lives with her mother in Los Angeles. I don’t see her at all. Irina keeps her from me,” the brunet reasons with you. “I’ve tried, Y/N, believe me, I’ve tried to see my kid. But if I want to see my daughter, that would mean that I will have to recognise Irina as my lawful soulmate and marry her. The law is very clear about that.”

The corners of your lips tugs downwards as soon as your fingers reach the doorknob. “I’m sorry, Lance. Just give me some time, okay?” Opening the door, you are ready to step outside, Lance’s shoulders dropping visibly in despair once you turn your back on him. “I’ve got a dress fitting at four and then the christening tomorrow. We will see each other then.”

Your feet carry you to the last place you’d expect. You can’t exactly go to Karen or Melinda, knowing they’ll be the first to judge Lance for his actions. What you need now is someone who knows Lance but will give it to you straight. And the first name to pop into your head is Hope, so you ring her doorbell and cross your fingers the bronze medallist is home.

As soon as she sees you standing on her porch, eyes glistening in doubt and begging for advice, she quickly invites you in and sits you down, offering some eggnog to ease the heartache. “Now tell me, Y/N, what brings you here to my humble home?”

“Well, I don’t know if Karen told you,” you start off, warming yourself on the eggnog, “But Lance and I agreed to meet up at that diner he loves so much.”

“Ah yes,” Hope grins cheekily, “Lance sure loves his pancakes. What did you guys talk about?”

For a heartbeat, you consider retracing your steps and telling her about your entire day. Nevertheless, you decide against vomiting your heart out and just settle for the dirty little details. Words rush from your lips like a hurricane, about how you made the first move and kissed Lance, how you loved it so much when he kisses you back, and eventually about his daughter, Adriana.

“He told you about Irina, didn’t he?,” Hope chuckles darkly as she scrolls through the gallery on her phone. “On the first date?”

You shake your head and take a sip from the eggnog to swallow your feelings. “It wasn’t a date, Hope. It was just breakfast.”

“So a breakfast date,” Hope glares at you with a knowing look. She proceeds to show you a picture of a very young Lance at the Olympics with a gorgeous woman on his arm. “This is Irina. She was a Romanian gymnast.”

Lance must be not older than 21 or 22 in this picture, his hair a little more tousled and his eyes a little wilder. The girl however appears to be somewhat younger, maybe 18 or 19, but she’s got legs to die for and a waistline of a ballerina.

“Do you know how Lance got his nickname, the fucker?” You stare at the blond with open mouth, Hope scoffing at your ignorance. “Oh God…”

“He’s always been a bit of a fuckboy, but he was a sweet fuckboy.” Snorting at Hope’s way of telling this story, she gives you the death glare, your laugh dying out in a tight-lipped smile.

“Parents didn’t give him a lot of attention unless he won another medal, so he searched for attention elsewhere. Girls were throwing themself at him. And Irina, the self-proclaimed princess of gymnastics, found a way to seduce him. They didn’t date for long before she sold the story to the press. Painted Lance as a male slut.”

Warming your hands with the cup of eggnog, you blow away some steam before taking a very big gulp in the hope of diminishing the uneasiness settling in the pit of your stomach. “What exactly did she do?”

Hope stands up from the couch to get some more eggnog and when she returns, she’s holding a newspaper under her arm. “This,” she replies dryly before pushing the newspaper in your hands.

“Lance ‘the fucker’ Tucker.” You read the headline aloud, mumbling some words here and there as you continue to read the rest of the article.

“After the article came out, he lived up to the nickname. It was also a way of avoiding fatherhood.” You sigh softly, finishing the rest of your eggnog with a lump in your throat as Hope tries to get a read on you. “And Irina didn’t want a fuckboy,” she grins a little wickedly. “She just wanted an American passport.”

Hope watches you put down the newspaper again with a sad look in her eyes, her sympathy for you mixed with a sense of responsibility. She feels like she should take care of you, the poor girl that ended up being Lance’s soulmate, but there’s no way she can shield you from the hard truth.

***

The dress fitting is a day straight from hell. First of all, the stylist that goes by the name OT, is a bitch with little to no patience and a lack of respect for women your size. Her needle somehow always finds a way to sting your sensitive skin, leaving you with red puncture marks all over your arms and legs, torso and heels.

Secondly, Karen keeps going on and on about how you and Lance are now the talk of town and how she overheard her neighbours gush about how cute you look together. Apparently the waitress of the diner you two had breakfast at, couldn’t keep her mouth shut and told half of the town about it. And to make matters worse, Karen’s sister Mimi didn’t how up for the fitting, claiming she didn’t want to be in the same room as you, the traitor.

“You look absolutely gorgeous!,” squeaks Karen once OT has finished up her final touches on your dress. Melinda chimes in and agrees quickly, but the pit in your stomach alerts you that you’re not entirely at ease with how the dress falls over your hips and shows off your breasts. It accentuates your body rather than hide it, like you’re used to doing.

“I don’t know, girls,” you whisper shyly, twirling in front of the mirror. “I don’t know. I love the colour and adore the fabric, but I’m not sure if a dress this expensive….” You try to talk your way out of it, afraid to reveal the real reason why you’re so uncomfortable by saying Karen can’t impossible pay for your dress when it’s definitely not cheap. That would be just too much.

But Melinda reads between the lines and nudges Karen’s arm. “Could you give us a minute, OT?,” Karen then asks the stylist, who just nods and leaves the three of you to it but not without sending a dirty glance your way before closing the door behind her.

“Now, Y/N,” Melinda says while patting the empty seat next to her on the couch. “Tell me what’s really bothering you.”

Sitting down with a deep sigh, you make sure the dress doesn’t hike up too much when you sit down. “I really appreciate what you’re doing for me, Karen. And you too, Melinda.” Both women smile warmly and the redhead’s kind eyes encourage you to speak plainly. “But I think that wearing this dress at the party on New Year’s Eve… it’ll just attract a lot of attention and I’m not sure I want that.”

“Christmas is right around the corner, Y/N, so consider this my early Christmas present,” Karen chuckles as she smooths over your dress. “And about the attention… It’s a theme party, Y/N. Everyone will be dolled up. And you’re a stunning young woman, Y/N. You deserve to feel beautiful and I know that you feel beautiful in this dress.”

“What are you wearing for Christmas Eve, hun?,” Melinda queries as you get up to change back into your normal clothes.

With a little hesitation, you show her a picture of the golden sequined dress you had in mind.

A low whistle slips past Karen’s lips and Melinda smirks in approval. “Lance will certainly appreciate that number. The pink one for New Year’s Eve a little more, but this one is definitely a showstopper as well.”

You swipe your finger on the screen of your phone to leave the app so you can lock your phone again, but unintentionally you swipe to the wrong side, a picture of a sexy red dress popping up on the screen. Karen immediately notices it and steals your phone right from your hands before you can hide it away.

“What’s this, hm?,” Karen coos mischievously. “Preparing for another date with Lance?”

“It wasn’t a date,” you protest while snatching your phone back from Karen, prompting a giggle from Melinda. “And no, this dress I bought just for me. Because I love the way it looks on me.”

“It’s a bit too much to wear to the christening tomorrow, but you can wear it to the cocktail party Ethan’s boss is throwing?”

“Maybe,” you mumble under your breath, hastily throwing on your jacket and following behind your two friends as you exit the shop and say goodbye to OT.

“Will Lance be there?”

You turn around the corner to where you parked your car, fishing out the car keys and coming to a stop right in front of it. Kissing the redhead and blond on their cheek, you promise to call them as soon as you come home to arrange the final details for the christening.

The christening eventually rushes by like a speed train. You were fully in control of your emotions, able to keep a level head around Lance who is still Sofia’s godfather. There isn’t much talking, only the promise of talking before Christmas eve at Karen’s and Ethan’s. And Christmas Eve is there sooner than you can mentally prepare for, your phone buzzing and lighting up with unread messages and unheard voicemails from your soulmate.

This time it’s Lance who says he wants to talk, but this time not at a diner or anywhere else that’s a bit too public. He wants to pick you up at your place and talk during the drive over to the party. And at seven p.m. sharp, Lance knocks on your door.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” he breathes out heavily once his eyes land on your full-figured body dressed up in the gold sequined dress you showed to your friends earlier. They were right, it is in fact a showstopper and as Lance gazes at you with lust-blown pupils and his lips parted in astonishment, you must admit you feel quite coveted.

Offering you his arm, he escorts you towards his car like a true gentleman. Opening the door for you, he allows you to sit inside the car first before walking around his car and sliding into the driver’s seat too. As soon as he revs the engine and gets going on the road, you continue to fidget with your hands in your lap until Lance, just like that day in the diner, shifts his hand from the gear stick to place it on top of your sweaty palms.

“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart,” he smiles gently, “You look like a jewel.”

Blushing brightly, you eventually stop playing with your fingers. “So…,” you cough and clear your throat, “We’ve got a lot to talk about, I guess…”

“Yeah,” Lance admits with a breathy laugh, getting a little nervous as well now while keeping his eyes on the road. They occasionally wander to you again and cascade down your cleavage, but he is quick to correct himself and keep the conversation flowing.

“Since we last talked, I got a few things going. I – I called Irina and asked her if it would be possible to fly over with Adriana. That there’s someone I want them to meet.” Lance parks the car across the street from Karen’s house, turning his body towards you as he continues. “I also wrote down some dates that we can take some photographs, if you still want to.”

Lance’s cocky behaviour has made way for a more insecure Lance, eyes pleading with you for a second chance. “Yeah, I still want to.” The lump in your throat is slowly dissolving, but not all doubts have yet vanished into thin air. “But I’m not quite sure about meeting Irina. Lance,” you say as take his hand and squeeze it. “I think you should talk to Irina first before I do.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Lance agrees after some time weighing possibilities in his mind. “Let’s go inside now. I think they’ll be wondering where we are.”

The table is already set with all kinds of delicacies, all the guests dressed to the nines for the occasion. You’re a little worried that Mimi is there, too, but it’s Christmas which is the time for forgiveness, so you don’t pay her any mind, not even when she scoffs and snorts and grimaces at everything you say and do.

Lance however isn’t as accommodating as you are, and Mimi’s performance soon threatens to spoil his good mood. Resting your hand on his upper thigh underneath the table, you glance over at the brunet. He doesn’t react to Mimi’s attempts to lure him out, instead taking the battle in a completely different direction as he gushes about you in the most saccharine tone.

When dinner has been served and finished, Ethan invites everyone over to the living room by the fireplace for a drink. Karen and Ethan are seated in one loveseat, Melinda and Mike take a seat on the large couch while Mimi is forced to sit next to Oliver on one side and the lovebirds on the other as well as across from you and Lance in the second loveseat.

With his signature smirk, Lance throws his arm around your shoulders and hugs you close. A timid smile tugs at your lips when your eyes lock with Karen’s and a knowing grin from ear to ear appears on her face. With a content sigh, a happy atmosphere fills the living room together with the merry spirit that graces Christmas ever year. All is good this way, you allow yourself to believe.

“So Lance, how is training going?,” Mike queries as he takes a sip from his whiskey, passing around the bottle to everyone so they can refill their glass.

“Good, very good actually. I’m going for gold, of course,” Lance boasts about his gymnastic performances and excellent physical shape.

Mimi rolls her eyes at Lance’s comment and shoves Oliver’s side with her elbow, commanding him to move away from her instead of closer to her. “And what about you, Y/N? Any interesting photo journals you might be working on?” Melinda puts the bottle back on the table before returning to Mike’s embrace, sending a cheeky wink your way. “Maybe something to do with gymnastics, too?”

With a dry chuckle you tell them about your project with Lance and how it may relaunch your career as a photographer. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done, so it’s a personal challenge for me. And it also gives us the chance to get to know each other a little better.”

“Cool,” Oliver agrees with his brothers, earning the death glare from Mimi.

You all finish your drinks while holding casual conversations until the clock strikes midnight and announces Christmas day. “Time for presents!,” Melinda claps her hands and points toward the Christmas tree.

“Now, you all know how much Karen loves Secret Santa, so I rallied up everyone to participate,” the redhead announces, Karen hugging her shortly in gratitude.

“So let’s start with the first present! It’s for…” the blonde reads the tag and calls out Mimi’s name.

Her younger sister shuffles towards the Christmas tree to accept her present, very excited to see what’s inside. It’s a large box filled with all kinds of make-up, going from lipstick and eyeshadows palettes to more advanced theatre make-up. It is then revealed that Karen was her sister’s secret Santa.

Gifts are exchanged by the dozen, some having purchased more than one present, not just for the secret Santa but for their loved ones as well. Not only did Karen and Melinda both pitch in to get you a dress, they also joined forced to give you a gift certificate for the hairdresser so you can have your hair done for the theme party on Christmas Eve.

Nonetheless, the last remaining present under the Christmas tree is the present from your secret Santa. In lovely red and green wrapping, with a big golden bow on top, this gift is the smallest of all. Yet you don’t exactly mind, it’s not the size but rather the gesture that matters most. Upon opening the small package, you can feel all eyes on you and even hold in your breath in anticipation before the reveal.

And what a marvellous reveal it is. Inside the gift-wrapped box is a smaller, black box that holds the most magnificent golden necklace. It has two charms, one circle with your name engraved on it, and the other a tiny camera with a diamond for a lens. “It’s – It’s -,” you stutter as you’re unable to keep your eyes off the necklace. “It’s the best Christmas present I could’ve wished for. Thank you, secret Santa.”

You scan the room to find out who is your secret Santa, thinking it’s Ethan since you’ve known him the longest. But he just shakes his head with a playful smile and nods over to the brunet sitting next to you, sucking in a deep breath once you figure out it’s him. “You’re my secret Santa, Lance?,” you whisper affectionately, seeing Lance in an entirely new light.

“I am,” he mumbles back, nudging your nose with the tip of his finger as he laughs softly. “A gold necklace for my girl with a heart of gold. You really like it?”

“A gold necklace from a gold medallist. I love it.” Pressing a chaste kiss to Lance’s cheek, you express how happy you are with your present and how much it fills your heart with warmth to know that there is much more to Lance than meets the eye.


	6. Chapter 6

“This was nice, wasn’t it?” Lance gives you a lopsided grin, smiling like a school boy when he drops you off at your place early on Christmas morning after the festivities have ended. You’re standing on your porch, Lance one step lower but he’s a bit taller than you so you’re almost face to face.

Looking shyly at your gold heels and the way your dress cascades down your legs, you admit that you did have a very nice evening indeed. “Yeah, I’m glad Mimi didn’t give us too much shit about the whole soulmate thing.”

“Yeah,” Lance agrees with a breathy sigh, hooking his finger under your chin and lifting your face so you meet his eyes. “You’re definitely something, Y/N.”

Locking eyes with the brunet, you feel your heartstrings play a familiar song. You’re falling for Lance. “Thank you.”

When a timid blush graces your cheeks, Lance sees this as a sign to lean forward with the intention of a kiss. But at the same time that Lance makes his move, you take a step back so his lips ends up pecking thin air. A little surprised his grey-blue eyes search for yours and you press a gentle hand to his chest to keep him at bay.

“I can’t, Lance,” you let him down easy. “There are far too many things we still haven’t figured out.”

Nodding in understanding, somewhat disappointed and somewhat hurt in his pride, he purses his lips in a slightly sour expression. “Okay. No problem.”

You sense the mood has shifted instantly, your rejection falling heavy on his heart. But he’s mistaken if he believes that this decision is easy for you. On the contrary, you want to kiss him, but there are so many things holding you back. “I’m not saying our kiss, you know, a couple weeks ago… I’m not saying that was wrong. It wasn’t a mistake. It was just a little premature.”

What you’re trying to say is not that you regret going back to his apartment, going along with his game of truth or dare and kissing him. What you’re trying to say is that you enjoyed spending time with Lance and would like to spend more time with him before taking another step forward.

But what Lance hears is the opposite. To him it’s like taking ten steps backwards, back to strangers. Carding a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head in thought, Lance eventually descends the stairs without another word, backing out of the conversation and leaving you confused at to what to say or do to make him stay. Because you don’t really want him to go.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” Lance mumbles under his breath, on the verge of just giving up. “Merry Christmas.” With a wave of his hand he bids you goodbye. “See ya at New Year’s Eve.”

Partly frustrated and partly wounded, you take off one of your heels and throw it at Lance’s head, missing him just by an inch. “You fucker! You don’t get to walk out on me! You’re always so dramatic!” Running down the stairs, yelling at the top of your lungs without a care in the world about who hears you, you walk up to the gymnast seething and humiliated.

A tad chagrined himself that you just tried to hit him with your shoe, he turns around with his eyes lit on fire. “What. The. Actual. Fuck! Y/N!”

Balling your fists and shoving his shoulder, you try to get another reaction from him. “You are a covward! Can’t you see that I actually like you? Like… like like you?” Using Lance as your punching ball, you keep hitting him and Lance keeps blocking your every move.

“You like like me? What’s that supposed to mean? How am I supposed to know that from what you said? You told me the kiss was premature!” Grabbing your right arm before you can punch him on the nose again, not quite recovered from your mean right hook, he pulls you in so your chest collides with his.

“I didn’t say our kiss was premature!,” you protest as you keep fighting, his grip only tightening. Lance is a gymnast and therefore has a lot of strength in his arms, making it impossible for you to escape. Eventually you relent, slowing your raging heartbeat with steady breaths as you try to focus on anything but his eyes because you know once you look into them, you’ll be a goner.

“Okay, maybe I did say our kiss was premature. But what I actually meant is…,” you pant softly, resting your forehead against his collarbone with a groan. “That even though I liked kissing you, I still think we should take it slow. Or at least a little slower than before.”

Pressing a tender kiss to your hair whilst weaving his fingers through your soft locks, he whispers and ‘okay’ into your ear. “How was I supposed to get that from what you said?”

“Oh, fuck you, Lance,” you sigh to his jacket, looking back up with a small smile.

“If I take you out on a date Friday evening, would that be slow enough for you?,” Lance proposes with a cocky grin and a wink.

“Mhm, maybe…,” you chuckle as you step away from his embrace.

The gold medallist twirls one of your locks around his finger. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“It’s a date,” you confirm with the brightest of smiles.

***

“How’s your mark, buddy?,” Ethan asks Lance as they both change into their tracksuits at the gym. Lance looks at his collarbone in the nearby mirror and grimaces when he sees the mark has faded some more.

“Not so good,” he replies dryly, his face a little paler when he looks back at his friend. Pulling his shirt over his head, Lance and Ethan head to the gym, Lance to coach the girls for the upcoming Olympis and Ethan to coach the boys for the local marathon.

“You gotta level up your game, Lance,” Ethan advices his friend before they split ways to opposite sides of the gym. “Maybe don’t take her out for a dinner and a movie, but do something romantic that is also you.”

Lance shoots Ethan a confused look. “What do you mean by that? Something romantic that is also me?”

Rolling his eyes at the brunet, Ethan squeezes his shoulder with a cheeky laugh. “Something that screams Lance Tucker but is also very romantic and cosy and all that stuff girls like. Do something special and you’ll win her over in no time. You’re already halfway, Lance. You can’t sit this one out.”

It keeps Lance busy during the entire training session and the next full four hours of the next one as well. He barks at the girls louder than ever before, fuelled by his frustration and inability to come up with something that will convince Y/N that he’s worth it. That is, until the next outfits for the girls arrive and all his pupils squeal in excitement that he knows just the thing to charm you with.

You were trying on different dresses for your date with Lance when Hope stormed inside your bedroom, holding a huge box that just got delivered. “It’s from Lancey boy,” she says plainly without a trace of curiosity. “Open it,” she demands with that ever-annoying, coach-like voice.

“Okay…,” you mumble tentatively while opening the plain, carboard box. Inside there is more wrapping and a lot of foam, but amidst all the white there is something that definitely stands out. Taking it out of the box, you see it’s a magnificent rose gold dress with small gold decorations and subtle, lace vines and leafs adorning the entire gown.

“Lance must’ve thrown a lot of money out the window to get you this,” she whistles impressed. “That is actually a gymnast uniform, but modified to look like a cocktail dress more than an uniform Still, it has the shorts underneath the skirt like a real uniform. And by the looks of it, it’s also custom-made. Ain’t cheap I can tell you that.”

The dress fits like a glove and after Hope helped you out with your hair and make-up, she inspects you one last time before the doorbell rings to announce Lance’s arrival. He is a little intimidated when Hope opens the door for you with a stern expression and eyes that could kill a bear with one look. But then you appear behind her like a star straight from heaven and he puffs out his chest, sending Hope a message to back off, while giving you the sweetest of smiles he can muster up.

“You are a princess, Y/N,” he coos softly as he takes your hand and presses his lips in a chaste kiss to the back, bowing his head like a true gentleman. “My princess.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you call over your head to Hope. “Try not to break or burn anything.”

Sticking her tongue out at both you and Lance, she urges you to get a move on and just go already. “Your place is in safe hands,” she assures you before closing the door behind her, right in your face.

Once in the car, you start to get very curious as to where Lance will be taking you, probing him with indirect questions here and there but he won’t give it up no matter what you ask or how you ask it. “You didn’t have to get me this dress, you know.” Leaning back with your head against the seat, you eying him kindly, gratefully. “You really didn’t have to. The necklace is already more than enough.”

From the corner of his eye he watches how your fingertips caress the delicate gold necklace he gave you three days ago on Christmas morning. His heart flutters just a little and he wets his lips as he parks the car in front of the gym. You didn’t expect him to take you to the gym on your first, official date and it raises some worries deep inside you that maybe, just maybe Lance and you aren’t on the same page when it comes to romance.

“But I wanted to.” Opening and then closing his mouth as if he’d like to say something else, he can refrain himself from calling your princess, knowing it wouldn’t help his case.

“Lance,” you sigh his name with a voice a little more shaky than you’d like. “You can’t buy my love with a gold necklace and a golden dress.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that,” he replies aggravated, slightly irritated that you’d think so lowly of him. Then again you have every reason to suspect the worst. “But just – just come inside with me, okay? I promise I’m not trying to buy your affection. I just want to do something nice for you.”

With a slight nod from your head, still somewhat suspicious, you follow him inside the gym. You’ve been to frat parties and house parties and everything in between, so it’s safe to say you’ve seen a lot of different decorations, all unique in its kind. But nothing could’ve prepared your eyes for what you’d find inside the gym.

There is music playing in the back, no loud thumping music or popular songs you hear on the radio, but some old classics take create a vintage vibe. With a little help from Ethan and his brothers, Lance managed to transform the gym, usually packed with hot and sweaty bodies but now it’s completely empty except for you and Lance, into a Gatsby-inspired venue.

There are metallic gold fabric swathed across the ceiling, gold chandeliers and luscious candelabras, strings of pearls and crystal that hang from the ceiling, large feather accents around the gym equipment and floral arrangements of your favourite flowers spray-painted in fake solid gold. And to top it off, there’s a bottle of champagne is waiting for you on the table in the centre of the gym.

“Did you do all this, Lance?,” you gush as you gape your eyes out at all the beautiful decorations surrounding you.

Gesturing for you to take a seat, Lance nods with a proud smirk as he pops the cork from the champagne and fills your glass before revealing what’s on the menu. “I’m more of a microwave chef to be honest. But with a little help from Karen I managed to at least make something descent.”

As he’s lifting the lid to expose a simple spaghetti Bolognese, you burst into hearty laughter by all the dramatics surrounding it. Lance can’t help himself and joins in on your giggles, plating up the spaghetti and raising his glass for a toast. “To soulmates.”

“To soulmates,” you chuckle softly, truly feeling like a princess even if it’s just for tonight.

***

After dinner, Lance scrolls through the playlist he’s made for the occasion and selects Ed Sheeran’s ‘perfect’, asking you for a dance. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you feel how he keeps things modest and rests his hands on the small of your back instead of your ass like you expected him to.

“Be my girl, I’ll be your man, I see my future in your eyes,” Lance hums along to the words of the song, lips trembling slightly.

He dips his head, his breath fanning over your lips. You freeze in fear once his forehead rests against yours, his touch both exhilarating as it is dangerous. With a low, husky voice Lance tells sings the last lines to the song. “I have faith in what I see. Now I know I have met an angel in person. And she looks perfect. I don’t deserve this, you look perfect tonight.”

Leaning in a little more, his warm lips brushing yours sensually slow. But it’s not so much a teasing kiss as it is innocent, tentative as if prolonging the moment and savouring it. Then he kisses you like he’s never kissed any other woman before, his body angled in such a way that her chest was flush to his and their hips were pressing together.

There’s a spark coming from his lips with the small moan she draws from him, a warmth spreading through his body, not as if it was destroying him inside out but as if it was mending all his broken bits and pieces. It is as if this is the moment he’s been waiting for all his life, the other half he’s been waiting for so long.

There’s a hint from his minty chewing gum he had before dinner, my hands at the back of his neck eventually locking his lips with mine. His hands were wrapped around my waist and mine locked around his neck pulling him down slightly, sinking into his hold. There was no fireworks or electricity or tingles or even butterflies, but it did obliterate every thought objecting against it. Nevertheless, it was intimate and created an euphoric bliss behind your eyelids.

A violent gust of winds break you apart, both panting and filling your lungs with fresh air coming from the open gym door. “What the hell,” Lance curses under his breath, interlacing your fingers and pulling you along to the entrance.

There’s a snow storm raging outside, a neat pile of snow having already gathered in front of the building and snowing Lance’s car in. There’s no way you’re getting out here tonight and with a quivering voice you ask Lance what you’re going to do now.

“I’m not sure, princess.” You both attempt to close the door as it takes all your combined strength to keep the snow and the wind out. Afterwards Lance looks around the gym, mind working on a solution. “They did say something about a snow storm coming this weekend, but I didn’t think it would arrive today.”

“You knew?,” you pipe up with an aggravated tone. “And you still brought us out here?”

“Easy, princess,” he chastises you, his words stern but the pet name still has a sultry twang to it. “Help me move the equipment so we can prevent the doors from slamming open again. I’m afraid we’ll have to stay here for the night.”

Taking off the decorations and moving the gym equipment to the front door, you built a safe fortress for you and Lance. Thinking the worst is over and you can rest assured, the lights begin the flicker and eventually the power is cut, leaving you in complete darkness.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?,” Lance exclaims loudly as he throws his arms in the air. “The power’s out?”

Luckily the candles are still lit and provide the room with enough light to see where you’re going. Unfortunately there’s also no central heating as the power cute also means there’s no electricity anymore. Immediately you can feel chills run up your spine, the temperature dropping fast and causing it to be almost as cold inside as it is outside.

Running his hands up and down your arms to keep you warm, he pulls you into his chest. “We should take our clothes off, princess.” Bewildered you gaze up at him, eyes blown wide with a sense of fright. “To stay warm, Y/N. I’m not going to try anything, I can promise you that.”

Leading you to some mats on the floor, Lance opens the door to the locker room to search for some blankets. He returns with enough blankets for both of you and starts spreading them out on the mats when he realises you’re still nailed to the spot. “What’s wrong, princess?”

“I don’t – “ You clear your throat as he searches your eyes for an answer. “I – I – no, you’re probably right. Body heat.” With a nod you turn around and ask him to unzip your dress. Lance does as he’s told and turns around so you have some privacy while taking off his own clothes.

“You can go first. I’ll put some more blankets on you and then join. But as I said, I’ll keep my distance.”

This you can agree with and as Lance busies himself with finding more blankets and even a pillow stashed away somewhere, you get as comfortable as you can be in your white lacey underwear. Once Lance returns, he tucks you in properly before sliding under the covers next to you, but still with a respectable distance in between. And thus you both lay there, like two stiff pieces of wood, afraid of any personal contact.

“You like it when I call you princess?,” Lance eventually breaks the silence, resting his arms behind his head and gazing over at you with twinkling eyes.

Locking eyes with the gold medallist, your eyes automatically gravitate towards his plump lips. “I do, actually,” you admit with a light blush, a little ashamed that it costs so much of your energy to admit this.

“You like it when I kiss you?,” Lance tries again to see how far he can take this, his mantra always go hard or go home. He has to know, he just has to.

Averting your eyes again to look outside one of the windows to the snow falling, you mumble something that remotely resembles a yes. Lance takes this as his sign to move an inch towards you, and another inch, and another after that until he can lace an arm around you if he turns to rest on his side. His left hand caresses your stomach over the blankets, hugging you softly against him.

Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, he feels his heart swell with that same warmth as when you kissed back. “You are my princess, Y/N. You really are. I’ve had too many partners that meant nothing at all. I’m ready for the real thing, Y/N.”

You’re listening to his every word, yet you fail to find the words yourself to reply. It’s like the lump in your throat has swollen so big it threatens to choke you. It’s like you swallowed your tongue and have lost every ability to speak. It’s like with one kiss turned all the tables, and not in a positive way.

When you don’t say anything at all, Lance’s mind starts to work overtime but it’s like he’s holding a surfboard instead of his soulmate. So when sleep casts its familiar spell over his heavy eyelids and he falls asleep, he dreams of nothing else but your rejection and the love that is blossoming which he fears to lose.

***

You’re the first one to open your eyes when morning comes. It’s still early but soon you’re wide awake when you realise you’re completely wrapped around Lance like a koala bear. One of his hands is supporting your shoulder while the other hugs your bum, legs entangled and your head resting on his broad chest.

You stir your movements immediately, not even trying to detach yourself from him out of fear of waking him up. So you listen to his steady breathing instead, and when his breaths become more shallow, they alert you he’s about to open his eyes.

“Good morning, princess,” he chuckles in a groggy voice. “You’re so warm.” He nuzzles his face in your neck and pecks your pulse point, running his nose up your jaw like you didn’t just obliterate his feelings last night.

“Good morning, Lance,” you mumble in a faint voice. “You think the snow has melted already?”

“Don’t wanna talk about the snow, princess,” he whispers to your skin while pressing feather-light kisses to your jaw. “I wanna cuddle.” It’s more a request than a proposal and Lance inhales deeply, catching your sweet scent as it tickles his nostrils.

“Lance,” you try again with a more firm tone, “I don’t feel like cuddling.” Pursing his lips as a disappointed hum fills the silent space between you, he lets go of you. “Thank you.”

His mood has cooled down considerably as you cover yourself with some more blankets. “Y/N, can I ask you a question?,” he queries, kinking an eyebrow.

“Sure,” you mutter casually, trying not to sound too distant.

“You do realise that what happened last night is part of the soulmate flashes, right?” While you look at him with your eyes as big as balloons and your mouth fallen open, he scoffs with a haughty look in his eyes. “Being stuck at the gym when a snow storm hits and we both have to work together to block off all exits and to keep warm?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “You’re right.”

“So what more proof do you need? What more do you need from me, Y/N? No, let me rephrase that…” Lance is getting more hostile towards you, cradling your face in his hands as urgency courses through his veins. “What more do you want from me?”

With a clenched jaw, he is forcing you to look straight into his eyes, not playing around anymore. The cocky mask has fallen and now there’s only desperation etched onto his face. It’s painstakingly clear he is being real with you, and that’s all you really want. Something real for a change.

You looked at Lance, truly took your time to actually look at him on the inside, who he really is. He looked back, gripping you with those baby blue full of longing. You don’t exactly remember how it all happened, if he leaned in first or if you took the initiative. Your mind was a blank as a piece of paper but your emotions as tumultuous as last night’s snowstorm.

Where the first kiss could be considered polite and chaste, with no tongue, no groping or crashing your lips to his in fiery passion, this kiss is both frantic as it is sensuous. It makes your heart pound. It makes Lance’s blood rush to his ears. His fingers stroke your face as yours slide to his neck, chemistry fuelling the deep and emotional tug between you two. There is room for softness and languid kissing, exploring each other’s mouth’s. This is the way you most prefer kissing.

But not Lance. He’s waited for too long for this. The atmosphere shifts as soon as he holds your hair in a fist, grabbing your throat as well. Once acquainted with the taste of your lips, the kiss turns fast and demanding. He bites on your lower lip and sucks on your tongue, crushing you with his energy, the very definition of a bruising kiss.

In the heat of the moment you both get carried away, his hands roaming your body as he lays you back down as he didn’t want his adoration for you to stop with just a heated kiss. You close your legs around his waist, indicating you want more too.

“You sure about this, princess?,” he pants to your lips as he pulls away slightly to make sure this is exactly what you want.

“Just fuck me, Tucker.”

Your hands reach behind your back to unclasp your bra and Lance helps you take it off, wanting to appreciate your breasts first. He can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips, a small chuckle vibrating through him and against your lips as your bare chests press against each other, a small moan escaping Lance as he grasps onto your breast.

“I wanna feel you first, princess.”

You pull him in for another kiss as he appreciates your curves, your hand snaking down his chest and towards the hem of his boxer briefs, your eyes searching for permission. As you kiss some more, you slip your hand into his boxers and his breath hitches when he feels your fingers graze his skin, welcoming your touch.

Your fingers graze his cock with featherlight touches, tentatively feeling his sensitive skin as you explore him, cupping his balls first and eventually taking his cock in your hand, palming him softly. “You got me so needy, princess,” Lance moans to your breast as he sucks on your taut nipple.

He feels the blood rush down to his length, it slowly hardening as you touch him and he moan a little more, wanting to make an inappropriate comment but knowing it wasn’t the right moment. His cock throbs a little as you touch and palm him in your warm hand and he reaches with his right hand down between your legs slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you as we kiss sensually, a grunt falling from him as he whispers “Princess, can I take your panties off?”

His hand reaches your heat and he pushes his fingers into your panties, instantly feeling how wet you are, moaning while slowly running his fingers up and down your folds. “Yes, Lance, please… take them off.”

With gentle caresses he pulls down your panties and slides them down your legs, disappearing underneath the blankets for a moment. Then he resurfaces again and throws them somewhere over his shoulder with a smirk, kicking off his boxers too.

“I don’t have a condom,” Lance admits as you take his cock into your hand and line him up with your entrance.

“I’m on the pill,” you reply as your need grows beyond your control.

Inch by inch Lance pushes his tip inside, stretching you out slowly as your moans spur him on. Nails digging into his shoulders, he senses you really want this to happen and fills you up with one deep, sudden thrust so you cry out his name at the top of your lungs. There’s little time for you to get used to being with a man again, Lance picking up a steady and fast pace as he ruts in and out of you, pounding into you relentlessly.


	7. Chapter 7

There’s a Greek myth you’ve always loved, about how soulmates were reportedly created. At first, a human being consisted of two people merged as one. They were completely, unconditionally happy. But Zeus grew jealous of their happiness and decided to cut all of them in half.

Once he split every human in two, these humans were no longer happy or complete. On the contrary, they would search their entire life for that same feeling of being complete again in the arms of their loved one, their soulmate. Some found their other half, others didn’t, but when they found their soulmate they’d forsake all nourishment in favour of that feeling of being complete again.

But they would never feel the same again, never be as complete as when they were still one unity, one body. So Zeus started to feel sorry for the humans and felt bad for what he had done to them. He decided to fix the damage and give the humans the ability to love and make love to one another.

Love was a substitute for being complete again, as love would never allow the same level of unity. Therefore the act of making love was introduced, to at least let humans experience this level of unity again in the same bodily way, just like before they were torn apart.

Making love for the first time, with your soulmate, it changes everything. It changes the way you feel, the way you think and act, maybe even the way you see the world. You slept with Lance Tucker and you have no idea how to feel about that.

After what happened at the gym between you and Lance, you didn’t talk to him for another two days. You didn’t know what to think of it, your thoughts jumbled and your feelings making your insides churn. Karen was getting increasingly worried as her NYE dinner was only one day away and you and Lance are supposed to go together.

He’s a cocky bastard and you’ve never been one to be seduced by the bad boy type. You prefer your men to be good guys, sweet guys, adorable dorks with a heart of gold. You don’t want a womanizer who spends his spare time chatting up girls in bars and getting laid on the premise of his former glory – and his notorious tattoo.

Your phone didn’t light up with missed calls from Lance. On the contrary, it stayed eerily quiet. Even when the day came round that you and Lance had scheduled your photo session. Albeit dragging yourself out of the house, you picked up your camera equipment and headed to the gym. You were early, very early, and so you waited on one of the benches while playing with your settings a little.

Soon girls started to flow in and you felt increasingly uncomfortable. If these are the girls Lance trains with, you don’t stand a chance, soulmate or not. You were beginning to realise what he saw in Mimi, spending his days around these gorgeous, lean girls with a perfect figure. When eventually Lance walks into the gym with his usual swagger, you straighten your back and get up to meet him halfway.

His face exhibits clear signs of shock as he did not expect to see you here. “Hi, Y/N!” Lance swings his bag to his other hand so he can give you a small hug, but you take step a back and smile apologetic. Fortunately he understands you’re not a big fan of physical contact at the moment.

“So are you ready?” He nods and tells you he’s just going to change into his work-out clothes in his office. There’s no cheeky smile or a sexual innuendo that follows, he just goes into his office with a sad look in his eyes. A pang of guilt follows and you have to calm your heart before it jumps out of your chest.

Once Lance emerges from his office, he calls all the girls around him and it’s back to business. You take photographs of the girls’ routines and of Lance correcting their figure or showing them how it’s supposed to be done. Sometimes your eyes linger a little longer on Lance, especially when he effortlessly demonstrates a triple backflip. At the end of practice, your memory card is about half full and you thank all the girls for being so professional about it.

Some ask when they can see the photographs and show genuine interest in your work, though others don’t show the slightest interest, bidding goodbye to Lance with a flirty grin.

“So… I’m next?” He scratches the back of his head with a shy smile. It’s the first time you actually see him with a blush on his cheeks and an insecure look in his eyes.

“Yeah, just show me a couple routines that you normally do and maybe a previews of what you wanna do at the Olympics?”

“Alright, I can do that,” he chuckles softly, pulling his shirt over his head and catching you off guard.

“What on earth are you doing?,” you snap at him with a slightly horrified look on your face as you take in his chiselled chest.

Lance just shrugs and it looks like he’s back to his old ways. “I’m sweaty,” he replies casually, taking a swing at the bars first, flexing his arms and though you don’t like to admit it, much to your entertainment he makes a little bit of a show out of it, grunting and groaning while he perfectly delivers his routines.

Once he’s finished, little beads of sweat are dripping over his chest and you lick your lips at the sight. Although you try to be subtle about it, Lance catches you gazing anyway and struts towards you, shaking his hips as an imaginary song plays in his head. It makes you laugh, the sound freeing you from the chains of insecurity that caused the distance between you and Lance to become almost unbearable.

“When do you think I can pick you up tomorrow?” He figures you’ve danced around each other for long enough, going straight for the kill.

You stutter a little at first, thinking of how much time and effort you’re gonna have to put in editing the photographs before they’re ready to be send to your editor. “Maybe around seven?”

His face instantly perks up now you’ve confirmed you still want to go to the party with him. In his happy daze, he quickly and unexpectedly pecks your lips. Once he realises what he’s done, he curses under his breath and walks away.

You have half a mind to follow him to his office and stop Lance before he can go inside. “Hey, Lance, it’s okay.” Resting a hand on his arm, you give him a reassuring smile before you drop your hand again. “I’m not saying I didn’t… like that,” you confess gingerly, “But it’s too soon after… you know…”

Lance bows his head and hums a quiet ‘yes’. You don’t want to end on such a low note and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, Lance’s hand smoothing over the skin you just kissed when he gazes up at you with a boyish smile.

He doesn’t have to say thank you as you can already see it in his eyes, a little grin tugging on the corners of your lips as you walk backwards to the exit. You only turn around when he gives you a small wave and you’ve woven back.

***

“What is Lance going as again?,” Karen disrupts your thoughts as you’re zipping up your dress before she returns the favour. Karen is dressed as the Goddess Hera to Ethan’s Zeus, as Karen is the one that planned the event in the first place and Ethan arranged the venue.

“The self-proclaimed God of Gymnastics apparently,” you shake your head as you reply, rolling your eyes at Lance’s humour. “Well, at least he’s got the abs of a Greek sculpture.” Your comment makes Karen cackle in hearty laughter, and you’re happy that the mood is so light considering Mimi is also coming to the ball.

“The self-proclaimed God of Gymnastics and his Goddess of Spring.”

Karen makes you twirl around and gives you a nod of approval. You’re all set and ready to go. Some of the guests have already arrived at the venue, waiting for Karen to assign them their seat at the dinner table, but she wanted to steal a moment of your time first to talk about something important. She has yet to tell you what’s so important.

“Hey, it was you that picked out the theme! Gods and Goddesses of New Year’s Eve,” you bounce back with a laugh, bubbling up from deep in your chest with genuine feeling.

It’s been too long since you’ve felt this kind of light-heartedness, the joy of simply living life instead of just existing. You have no idea what changed, but maybe it’s Lance’s dozen of roses he got you when he came to pick you up. Or maybe it’s the good news from your editor that your pictures are outstanding and she’ll publish them first thing next week.

Karen rolls her eyes and agrees. “So… what I wanted to talk to you about…” She leaves a dramatic pause, scanning your face for the truth about what she’s going to ask you. “Are you and Lance officially together now? Like, a proper couple? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Dating?”

You gaze down to your hands, fumbling with the roses of your dress. “No, we’re not. We are…” You mull over the words in your mind, hoping you’re not overestimating Lance’s feelings for you. “Weighing our options.”

Melinda rushes inside just in time to hear those final words, dressed as the Goddess of Wisdom Athena, pumping her fists in the air in victory once she registered your sentence. “Weighing your options? That totally means you’re dating, Y/N!”

“No, it doesn’t!,” you pipe up, your voice a pitch higher than usual. You thought you were doing a pretty good job at hiding what you and Lance did the day after the snowstorm. So far, you figured nobody suspected you and Lance had sex and you made Lance swear he wouldn’t boast about it to anyone, not even his best friend Ethan.

Humming her words, Melinda goes on to speak about how Hope saw you head inside the gym yesterday with your camera. “You did go through with the photoshoot, right?”

“Please tell me you did. You have to think about the soul mark, too, Y/N,” Karen joins Melinda, her brows furrowed.

“Yes, we had the photoshoot. But I can’t exactly force myself to love him, now can I?!,” you defend yourself against your two friends, getting agitated by them probing around in your love life.

They mean well and you know they do, but somehow you’re more on edge when talking about him. It’s like you feel the need to protect him and defend yourself towards others because they’re so quick to judge.

“I know I have to think about the soul mark,” you whisper gloomily, “I know that it can disappear and I know that will mean we are no longer soulmates. But I am trying to accept Lance as my soulmate.”

Ethan peaks his head around the corner, alerting Karen that more guests have arrived and that her presence is required. “You can’t rush love. It’s already a big step for you to let someone else in after… James,” she smiles warmly as she squeezes your hands in hers.

“I heard from Mike that Lance told the guys the mark is brighter again, so that’s a good sign.” Melinda sits down next to you and her voice takes a softer tone, as if she’s about to handle you with velvety gloves. “Mike also says Lance was a bit reluctant to talk about the night you got snowed in. That he was very vague about it. Did something happen, Y/N?”

Locking eyes with her, you know you can’t keep this a secret for much longer. If Mike is already asking question, Mike who is always oblivious to the most obvious of things, then surely Ethan and Oliver have already picked up there is something going on. “I slept with Lance,” you suddenly blurt out.

“NO WAY!,” both women exclaim in unison, eyes going back and forth between you and them. Then they just gasp while scanning you from head to toe as if they can’t believe you actually did sleep with Lance.

“How was it?,” Melinda is the first one to ask.

Shrugging with one shoulder, you try to brush off the subject as quickly as possible. “The date was super romantic, the sex not so much. It was –“ Pursing your lips as you’re trying to find the right word, you then decide on “Hungry.” With a nod, you confirm you statement one more time. “Hungry, sweaty sex.”

“The best kind,” Melinda agrees with a girly giggle, prompting a baffled laugh from Karen and you, too. The girls don’t ask you any more questions, just leave the subject there for you to pick up again if you wanted to or felt the need to talk about it.

“I just gotta touch up my make-up a little and then I’m ready to roll,” you tell your friends when they join their soulmates and already head downstairs. You check your eyeliner and hairdo, deciding to adjust your lipstick and add some more blush before following them.

Suddenly there’s another knock on the door and you figure it must be Lance, wondering what’s taking you so long. You tell him to come in, only to see from the mirror it’s not Lance but Mimi. Snapping your head in her direction, you lock eyes and immediately ask her what she wants.

“Nice dress,” she comments, seemingly unimpressed. “The Goddess of Tulle and a fat ass, hm?”

Mimi is dressed in a black, luscious yet see-through dress that leaves little to the imagination. When she notices you’re scoffing at her choice of attire, she flips you off and tells you she’s the Goddess of Night. “I bet Lance will love it.”

“Don’t be stupid, Mimi. What you and Lance had was a fling.” Standing up from your seat, your dress elegantly flowing from your curves, you walk past Mimi to the door and not so accidentally bump your shoulder to hers.

“And you’re a fat cow!,” she yells at you in frustration. She really can’t take it when people talk back, even though she’s the one that started the argument in the first place. “You don’t deserve Lance. Just like you didn’t deserve James.”

It’s as if you’re frozen in time and nailed to the spot. You’re absolutely sure Karen never told her sister about James. She swore it on the life of her future child that she would never, ever tell anyone but Ethan, who was James’ best friend and buddy in the army.

With a menacing look, you turn around and point a stern finger at the girl. “What did you just say?”

There’s victory in her eyes as she notices she’s hit quite a sensitive nerve. “What do you think Lance will say or do when he finds out what happened to James? It’s your fault he’s dead.”

Mimi bats away your hand and you react instinctively, striking her hard across the cheek to punish her for her audacity. “You have no right to speak his name. You have no right to accuse me of his death.”

Despite looking scandalised, you can’t wipe that triumphant look off her face. “He came back from the war with severe PTSD, and you did nothing. You let him kill himself.”

A series of flashbacks violently resurface, most of them from the day you found James in your bedroom, with no pulse and a bullet through the head. You vividly recall the blood spatter and how your hands were stained red when you cradled his face in your hands in disbelief.

“I loved him, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.”

Clenching your jaw, you contemplate whether to slap Mimi again, or keep your anger to yourself and not give in to her bullying. She’s obviously trying to lure you out and frankly, it’s working. “James was a broken man when he returned. He saw young, small children blow themselves up because their parents are dead and the regime fed them lies, telling them it’s for a noble cause.”

“You have no idea of the horrors he saw there. You have no idea and how could you? You’re just a foolish girl who’s jealous and envious because a boy she likes doesn’t like her back.”

Mimi’s face is aw shite as a sheet, intimidated by the darkness of your words, your voice deeper than usual as you recall the images James had stuck in his head, the stories he told you that still haunt you to this day.

When you think you’ve said enough to stop her childish actions, Mimi surprises you once more. You’re almost out the door, your back turned to her again, when she delivers the final blow, plays her last card in the hopes of bringing you down with her.

“Lance ‘the fucker’ Tucker,” she rushes out in one heavy breath. “We fucked, you know, two days ago. He was at the bar, we were both hammered and started making out. He took me back to his place and we fucked. So it seems he isn’t as loyal to you as you think.”

***

When you see Lance waiting for you like a prince straight from a fairy-tale, or more likely a god straight from mount Olympus, your heart does that weird little dance move again. Once downstairs, he takes your hand in his and instantly intertwines your fingers, as if he wants to show everyone that you are in fact his.

“Your highness,” he chuckles playfully into your ear as he kisses your cheek.

“I’m not a queen, Lance. I’m the Goddess of Spring. Persephone, remember? I told you the Greek myth in the car.”

“Well,” Lance winks while jokingly pinching your ass. “We did other stuff in the car as well. Can you blame me for not remembering your lecture on Greek mythology.”

You immediately press a finger to his lips to silence him, afraid someone might be eavesdropping on your conversation, sending him a dirty look as well for being so talkative. “We kissed, that’s all.”

Lance wiggles his brows suggestively. “A French kiss,” he replies with a shit-eating grin and you playfully slap his arm in your defence.

Karen is busy assigning seats so you figure you will find your spot by yourself, searching for Ethan’s name since Karen must’ve placed the four of you together anyway. But much to your surprise and disappointment, your name isn’t anywhere near Ethan’s.

Instead it’s at least two tables away and next to three empty seats, two of which don’t have a name tag, just a card that says ‘reserved’. But luckily there’s Ben and Hope sitting right across from you, Hope dressed as the Goddess of Victory.

“You know who these seats are for?,” you ask Hope to see if she knows who the mystery guests are.

Holding up the card next to Ben, she mumbles Mimi’s name. “Can’t believe Karen seated her on our table,” she scoffs and Lance joins in on her discontent, humming in dismay.

You only chuckle nervously, Mimi’s confession still fresh in your mind. There’s a part of you that wants to believe she’s lying to you, because it could just easily be another trick to get back with Lance. But a part of you is nagging and itching and scratching at you. There’s a part of you that believes Lance would easily succumb to his old ways if he thought you’d turned him down.

Your smile never quite reaches your eyes when Lance bites his lip, looking about ready to devour you. All you have to do is get through the night and avoid repeating your earlier mistakes. No hot ‘n heavy make-out session and certainly no sex. Just innocent teasing and light flirtations, so he doesn’t suspect a thing.

“Yeah, what is wrong with Karen?,” Lance groans as he remembers Christmas Eve and how childish she acted, not just towards him but also towards you. He already expected Mimi to throw all her shit at him for cheating on her with Hope, but that Mimi would do anything to discredit you, that’s taking it a step too far.

Ethan takes the microphone and thanks everyone for coming, passing along the microphone to Karen who begins her speech. You only listen half to what she’s saying, enraptured by the man sitting next to you. There’s way too much gel in his hair and it’s too sleek for your taste since you like a little bit of fluffy hair you can card your hands through. It does make him look regal, you have to give him that.

As Karen is nearly finished with her speech when the doors behind you creak open as the final guests arrive a modest fifteen minutes late. All the heads turn in their direction and Karen even interrupts her speech to see who dares to walk in now when she’s almost done. You’re glaring daggers when you see who is the first one to strut inside but soon it turns into a panicking gaze when the other two mystery guests finally show their face.

In walks Mimi and behind her is Irina, ironically dressed as the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite. However, holding Irina’s hand is her little girl, Lance’s daughter Adriana.


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as they enter, the room falls silent and there’s not as much as a cough to be heard. Lance shoots off his chair and storms over to Mimi, Irina and Adriana, his expression seething and his heart racing in his chest. Your own blood is pumping to your ears as you cuss inwardly and follow after Lance. Karen tries to salvage the situation by elegantly finishing her speech and moving on to the first course as to keep the crowd busy and their attention away from the intruders.

Addressing Irina with a curt nod before crouching down in front of Adriana, Lance is the perfect father to his little girl. He tells her honestly that it’s great to see her again, that she looks absolutely stunning and that she is his little princess. “Daddy just needs a word with mommy, okay? You can go with Y/N. She knows where to find the ice cream,” he adds with a wink, warming up the heart of his daughter.

Lance’s princess is not the kind of little girl you’d expect. She’s twelve and in her first year in high school, already developing quite the attitude when she tells her father she’s not a kid anymore and he can’t bribe her with ice cream. Lance chuckles softly and shakes his head with a little smile. She’s totally his daughter.

“Too old for ice cream, hm?” He quirks an eyebrow and shrugs. “Okay, I guess Y/N will be eating alone then.”

Adriana’s eyes squint at her father. “No, not yet.” She grabs your hand and tugs at it. You stand up again and so does Lance, face to face with the mother of his child. He turns to you next and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “It’ll be alright, babe,” he assures you, ruffling a hand through Adriana’s hair who groans in frustration. “Go on, little brat.”

With a little hesitation, you coax the girl to the kitchen area where you hope to find some dessert to keep her busy and distracted. Meanwhile, Lance suppresses the urge not to yell at Mimi or Irina for this stupid move.

“Who is she?,” Irina asks as she swatches you walk away hand in hand with Adriana, like a hawk keeping an eye on her prey. She’s done a good job raising Adriana, she seems like a young and cheerful girl, but if there’s one thing Lance is absolutely sure about it’s that Irina always has another trick up her sleeve.

“That’s Y/N, my soulmate,” Lance answers matter-of-factly, eying Irina in suspicion. “My actual, real soulmate. Now let me ask you a question too, Irina.”

She cranes her head to the side and purses her lips, humming an okay with a cheeky smile. “What the fuck are you doing here?” the sound comes out like a hiss, Lance’s teeth gritted together. He then snaps his head at Mimi. “Is this your sick way of screwing me over for dumping you?”

With a tight-lipped smile, Mimi shakes her head and fishes out an invitation out of her clutch. Handing it over to Lance, he sees Adriana’s and Irina’s name written on it. “Karen said I could invite whoever I wanted to the party.”

“I thought you’d be happy to see Adriana again,” Irina adds insult to injury, straightening her back to emphasise her statement and her impressive breasts too. Irina is the kind of woman that can get anything done with her beauty, but Lance has grown immune to her seduction a long time ago when she tricked him into becoming a father against his will.

“Of course I am happy to see Adriana. I love my little girl.” His tone drops to a whisper, his face inches away from Irina’s as he threatens her. “It’s really low, Irina, to use my daughter as leverage. You ain’t getting me back. I’m with Y/N now.”

The brunet delivers the same message to Mimi, assuring her that he is not going to ever leave Y/N. “No matter what.”

As Lance is trying to sort out his problems with Mimi and Irina, you’ve snuck into the kitchen and are admiring all the different pastries the chef has prepared for dessert at the end of the evening before the clock strikes midnight and a new year has begun. Of course you can’t eat any of it yet because that would mean some guests won’t receive theirs, so you take Adriana to the freezer where you are sure you’ll find some leftover ice cream.

You are right and as soon as you open the door to the freezing compartment, you see several coloured boxes with different kind of flavours. “What’s your favourite hun?,” you ask the girl and after some consideration, she points at the strawberry flavoured ice cream with some embarrassment. She might already be twelve but she’s still got that innocence inside her.

You slide out the strawberry ice cream for Adriana and some salty caramel for yourself, finding the two of you some chairs to sit on at the counter. After retrieving two spoons, you take a seat next to Lance’s daughter and start digging into the ice cream. “So, you excited to spend some time with your dad again?”

Adriana smiles and takes a large scoop of the pink ice cream. “Yeah. He calls often and mom sometimes tells me a story.”

You wonder what kind of story Irina tells her daughter, but don’t engage into that kind of conversation yet. The salty caramel loses all its flavour when Adriana mumbles something about missing a family. You reach for her hand and touch it with sincere regret. “I’m sorry, Adriana. But your mom and dad love you, that’s the most important.”

“Yeah,” she exhales deeply, digging her spoon into the ice cream and leaving it in there. “He loves you, too, though. I can tell.”

Flustered by this change in topic, you give up on your ice cream too and sigh softly. “He’s my soulmate.”

Adriana scoffs and pushes the box aside, facing you directly. “Mom still says he’s her soulmate too, but she doesn’t believe it. At least not anymore. Sometimes I think she regrets having me, given Lance didn’t stick around.”

“I know that dad does stupid shit. I’m not oblivious. I can hear mom talk on the phone to him, arguing and bickering when there’s another rumour of a sex scandal with one of his gymnasts.”

There’s no sadness in her voice, her tone a little shaky but still steady enough to get the message across. “But I’m glad he has finally found someone. You seem like a clever woman. I think you’re smart enough to keep dad from messing up.”

Taken aback by how freely and shamelessly she can talk about this. Irina shouldn’t expose her to such sensitive content no matter whose daughter she is. “You love my dad. I haven’t decided yet if I like you or not, but if my dad loves you then I’m okay with you. Just don’t hurt him like mom did. My mom is a bitch, even I know that.”

Laughing a little at the girl’s dry comment, you nod and tell her you have absolutely no intention of hurting her father. “Pinkie swear?,” the girl goes while holding up her little pinkie.

“Pinkie swear,” you promise and are just about to do so when Lance enters the kitchen. He looks a little red, probably from having to control his temper around Mimi and Irina, but once he wraps his arms around Adriana and pulls her into a big bear hug, he’s again the best father imaginable.

Pressing a long and proper kiss to the crown of her hair, he brings the good news that she can sleep over at his place for the night. “Your mother is flying back tomorrow morning, but you can stay as long as you want.”

As the girl buries her face into his chest with a gleeful smile, he mouths a “hope you are okay with it” to you, to which you nod and whisper back “of course”. You’ll figure out how he managed to convince Irina later.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” Lance interlaces his fingers with his daughter’s while lacing an arm around your waist.

“What about Karen?,” you ask with a worried look. She’s put a lot of effort in this dinner for you to just leave.

“Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of it,” Lance assures you while his lips curl in happiness, but his broad smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Stopping momentarily, you ask Adriana to wait outside for a minute while you talk to her dad. “If you ask nicely, one of the waiters will give you a glass of orange juice.” Turning to Lance once she’s out of earshot, you cross your arms over your chest and take a step back. “What’s going on?”

Lance looks over his shoulder to where Mimi and Irina have taken up your old seats at the table with Hope and Tim. “We’ve come to an agreement,” he reluctantly confesses. “I don’t feel like going over it now, Y/N.”

“Well,” you start off while you cock your head in the same direction of the two women, smug smiles painted on their lips like a mask. “I need to know first before I’m going anywhere with you. So what kind of arrangement are we talking about. You get Adriana in exchange for what? I don’t believe Irina would give in so easily.”

Carding a hand through his hair and messing it up, Lance groans in frustration. He’s not mad at you for questioning him yet he is tremendously annoyed with all the setbacks you’ve had to face. Can’t you just date in peace?

“She wants to compete again. Irina has been training hard and working to get back in shape for the Olympics.”

“So she is dumping Adriana with you, isn’t it?”

“It’s hard being an athlete and a full-time mom,” Lance smiles sheepishly, “I had a word with her in private, away from Mimi. She knows what Mimi is up to and she doesn’t want to be a part in it. All Irina wants is another shot at a gold medal. It’s the only reason she agreed to Mimi’s plan.”

It does sound reasonable to you, but going from a casual thing to sort of a solid relationship was already a big step you haven’t even taken a full 100%, so how are you going to juggle surrogate motherhood into the mix? It’s not that you don’t want to, but that you’re afraid to give your everything to a man that might not be worth it in the long run.

“I love you, Lance.” He blows out a breath of relief after the surprise of your impromptu confession settles in. it’s adorable how cocky Lance can still be extremely insecure about your feelings when it appears he doesn’t give a shit about anything in the whole world apart from gymnastics.

“But I can’t do this if I don’t know you’re all in.”

Lance’s eyebrows knit together. He obviously doesn’t know yet what Mimi told you earlier during your fight. “You fucked Mimi after I turned you down that day.” The words aren’t coming from the bottom of your heart, instead from your mind with a sense of calm and deliberation. You realise what kind of man Lance is or was before you met him.

It seems for a moment that Lance’s eyeballs will pop out of their sockets, his teeth biting his lower lip hard and almost drawing blood. Will he deny or confess? “I know it might be a lie. That bitch is capable of churning out lies like the devil himself.”

Closing the gap between you and your soulmate, eyes on the same level, unbeknownst to you the emotion in Lance’s eyes isn’t what you’d expect it to be. But you’re too focused on hearing him say the words you want that you miss the obvious signs of shame and regret. Lance isn’t someone to show shame and regret, which is why his next words hit home even harder.

“I did sleep with her.”

It’s like taking a knife to the heart, a bullet to the head or being cut open whilst still conscious. Lance and Mimi, Karen’s little sister and the apple of her parents’ eye. That childish girl ruined everything. Seems Lance can’t quit his bad habits after all.

“I was angry and I wanted to scream at her,” Lance defends his actions but it’s of no use. “But in my rage, we ended up having anger sex instead. Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry. I know I should’ve come to you instead but I was pissed off so bad… I’m so sorry, babe.”

Dropping your hands to your sides, your eyes void of any emotion at all now, you take out the car keys from your purse and gently push them to his chest, your hand lingering a little over his heart while you whisper quietly.

“Have fun with your daughter.” He has broken the woman he loves and he can sense it in the way you act around him. Cold. Distant. “Don’t forget to use a condom next time you and Mimi get together.”

It’s a cruel way to say goodbye, rubbing more salt into an already open and festering wound, but he deserves it. He deserves all the trouble that comes for him once Karen finds out what he’s done. And as you’re walking away, he can feel that familiar sting of the soul mark burning on his skin just like after your first kiss.

Clawing at his costume, he reveals the now spotless skin, his fingertips touching where the soul mark was supposed to be. Lance Tucker is no longer your soulmate. The soul mark is gone.


	9. Chapter 9

You didn’t expect anyone to knock on your door at this hour of night as it’s almost time to toast on the new year. After lifting your suitcase off the bed and deciding to finish packing later, you walk to the door and open it slightly to reveal Melinda’s worried face. She easily slips past the door and weasels herself into your home, closing the door behind her.

“What are you doing here, Mel?,” you say whilst squinting your eyes at her, angry about the disturbance as you’d rather be left alone right now.

She notices that you’ve been busy boxing up your stuff around the house, sighing and dropping her head in disappointment. Yet she is not disappointed in you, but in Lance because there’s only one man that can cause such a dramatic change of heart in you.

Resting a gentle hand on your shoulder, her eyes lock with yours in tender sympathy. “I don’t know what he did, but it must be pretty bad that you walked out on Karen’s dinner knowing it’s so very important to her.”

Taking a step back and shaking off Melinda’s good intentions, you make your way to the kitchen and finish that glass of red wine you left on the counter in one go. Melinda swallows thickly as she realises you’ve not only been clearing out your belonging, but also drinking profusely to drown your feelings.

Sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs, she watches how you open another bottle of wine and pour Melinda a glass as well. She thanks you when you hand it over to her with a bitter smile and a scoff. “He couldn’t keep his hands off Mimi, that’s what happened.”

Collapsing onto the seat across from Melinda, you take a large gulp of wine and swallow. “I booked a flight for the day after tomorrow. The first one they had available, to New Zealand.” You open the laptop that’s on the kitchen table and turn it to Melinda so she can see the booking confirmation that just arrived in your email a couple minutes ago.

“Started packing right after. Called my editor too and left a message on her voicemail saying that I’ll be back after in February. That I need some personal time first. They pay me enough to splurge myself with a trip to New Zealand, so that’s what I’ll do.”

After sipping from the wine too, Melinda exhales deeply, trying to talk you out of leaving. “I do not condone Lance’s actions and I’m not here to speak on his behalf.” With a scoff, you drink more wine and just roll your eyes. “But if you walk away now, there’s no turning back. You are walking away from your soulmate.”

She struck a sensitive nerve with the soulmate card. Your heart still aches for Lance but if something or someone is toxic, you should drop them at once. So that’s what you’re doing. “I feel like I’m being punished,” you speak up for yourself, filling your glass to the brim with more wine.

“I had the perfect man. James was the perfect man.” Melinda’s face falls as soon as you mention James’ name. “But just because I didn’t see any soulmate flashes, I didn’t allow myself to enjoy the time I spent with him to the fullest. And now he is dead.”

“You did everything you could to help him, dear,” Melinda assures you, placing a hand on top of yours. “You saw psychiatrists, psychologists, doctors, nurses… everyone that could possibly help with James’ condition.”

“But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough for that man. I didn’t deserve him.” Abruptly getting up from your seat, you head over to one of the pictures that are framed and hanging on the wall. Standing in front of it, you let the spite take over your tongue. “But I do know that I don’t deserve a cheater either. No woman deserves a cheater.”

Melinda joins your side and gazes with you at the picture of you and James. It was taken the day you waited for him at the airport to return from his last tour. He wasn’t the same man anymore, but he tried his best to keep up appearances. He didn’t fake his joyous expression and his broad smile when he saw you and the sign you’d made for him. He did fake the days that followed where he pretended everything could get back to normal.

Your friend knows there’s no way she can change your mind. Lance has hurt you too much. It’ll take time for you to heal and time is all she can give you at the moment. No matter how good her advice might be. “So I guess this is goodbye?”

“Yes, I guess it is. I’ll go pay Karen a visit tomorrow and you should go back to the party. I don’t want you to miss out on a good party because of me and my love troubles.”

“This is way more important than popping champagne and getting drunk. You are my friend and I needed to make sure you were alright,” Melinda smiles but she is being dead serious. Pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, she tells you she’ll check in on you tomorrow. “I’ll leave you to it so you can sort things out.”

She’s almost at the door when she remembers something. “Oh, Adriana asked for you. Is there anything you want me to pass along to her?”

With a pang to the chest, you recall the promise you made to the girl, of not hurting her father. But her father hurt you first, so you’re not entirely to blame for this even though you are someone that never breaks her promises. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

“So how was New Zealand?,” your boss asks you when you step into her office. Yet despite her question she doesn’t portray as much interest in your travelling as she does in the photo series she’s got in front of her.

“Good, very good,” you reply swiftly, “I see you got my photographs.”

She nods and takes off her glasses, giving you a soft smile. “I did and they are excellent! We are running them immediately.”

“Happy to hear that,” you chuckle while taking a seat in front of her.

While she’s collecting the photographs and filing them again, your boss waits for you to make another comment on the pictures. When there is none, she takes matters into her own hands. “Why are you back, Y/N?”

Your boss is someone to cut the crap and get straight to the point, a trait of character you’ve always appreciated in her as your editor tends to be a little too delicate with some matters. “What do you mean?”

Her assistant walks by and she calls out for her, asking her to close the door so nobody can eavesdrop. Once the assistant is back at her own desk, your boss gives you a stern talking to. “You told me that you wouldn’t come back, that you wanted to work more as a freelancer. Too many memories here. And now you are here, asking me to give you back your own job. I don’t know what to make of that, Y/N.”

“Ohio just wasn’t working out, ma’am,” you lie smoothly, the truth on the tip of your tongue but too painful for you to admit yet. “It feels good to be back in San Fran.”

Sighing deeply, she slides a contract towards you. “Take a look. It’s a new contract than what we initially discussed. If you’re serious about staying here, I’m making you head of the photography department. I’m firing your editor. She lacks leader skills but you…”

Her dark brown eyes bore into yours as she recognises the potential greatness sitting in front of her. “You are damn good at what you do and you know how to motivate people.”

Swallowing thickly, you realise this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. If you turn this down, there’s no going back – ever. “I’m honoured that you think so, boss.”

The woman rolls her eyes at you as soon as you call her boss. “Please, I might own this fucking company, but I am not your boss. I am your partner so you can call me Evelyn.”

“Thank you, Evelyn.” With a little hesitation, you ask for some time to think it over to which she happily agrees. “Not all of my stuff has arrived yet and most of my equipment is still in boxes.”

“I understand. Take as long as you need.” With a curt nod she dismisses you and picks up her glasses again, eying you curiously when you get up and walk to the door. “Is it a guy?,” she eventually pipes up before your hand reaches the door knob.

Stiffening at her question, you smile sheepishly and don’t try to show her how much you’re still pining over Lance. As casually as possible you reply with “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well, whoever he is and whatever he’s done,” she concludes with a knowing wink and a sincere smile, “I hope he knows what kind of amazing woman he let slip away.”

After several weeks of re-adjusting to San Francisco, the time had come for you to sign the contract Evelyn had proposed. You didn’t have to call in for work today as Evelyn was going to fire your editor first and didn’t deem it necessary for you to be there as you will be her replacement and it would only cause more drama. So you kept your head down, ordered a whiskey and watched the Olympics on the big screen while waiting for a girl that contacted you earlier about your photo series on Lance Tucker and wanted to feature some of your pics on her blog.

The Olympics do leave a sour taste in your mouth, regardless of the stiff drink in your hand, as it’s the first time Lance is competing again. Luckily the gymnasts aren’t due until later this week and you’ll probably be buried up your ass in work, so chances are you’re gonna miss it anyway. Nevertheless, you would’ve loved to catch one last glimpse of your former soulmate before closing the book for good.

“Hey girlfriend.” A random stranger slides in the seat next to you, throwing his arm over your shoulders against your will.

Your face contorts in a mixture of surprise, confusion and disgust while trying to push him away from you. Though he is very persistent and leans in so closely his breath fans over your lips. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all by herself?”

“She isn’t all by herself, pal,” a familiar male voice defends you and when your eyes glide past the creep’s face and lock with Ethan’s, you breathe out a sigh of relief. “C’mon, let the lady go and behave or I’ll be forced to kick you out.”

Holding his hands up he moves away from you and slips past Ethan, who replaces the man next to you and pulls you into a small hug. “Thank you so much for that,” you whisper in his ear, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “But what are you doing here?”

Ethan leans back far enough to study your face. “You look good,” he concludes after a few moments of silence, avoiding the question at first. Then you give him a chastising gaze and he awkwardly runs a hand through his hair. “Well, I kinda set you up. The girl you’re supposed to meet, she’s actually one of my former squad members. She owed me a favour.”

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of welcoming you back in San Fran?,” you scoff a little at his scheming.

Ethan points at the television screen and you already know what he’s about to say. “Lance.”

You knock over your drink all at once. “No,” is the only thing you’ve got left to say about it.

He doesn’t know what happened between the two of you that caused you to drink like a pirate, but given the hurtful look in your eyes, it must be pretty bad. “Lance wanted me to give you this. Said you left it at his place.”

It’s a plain, white envelope with two VIP passes inside for the Olympics. You remember Lance talking about the perks of being a contender, that he got to bring whoever he pleased. He also said he’d get you a VIP pass since you’re his soulmate, and another one if you wanted to bring a friend. Seems he kept his promise after all.

“I don’t want it,” you claim and push the envelope back into Ethan’s hands, who just bites his lower lip and places them on the table in case you’d change your mind at the end of the conversation. “Did he send you here?”

“No, he didn’t send me but he does know I was coming.”

“Why are you here, Ethan?,” you sigh, cocking your head at the bartender and asking for refill. The waitress quickly arrives with a drink for you and Ethan.

He takes a small sip of his whiskey and then continues. “I am here because of the way you left things.” A dry laugh bubbles up in your throat. “Irina is also competing. Adriana refused to come with Lance to the Olympics because she knows he fucked up with you.”

That’s what the two VIP passes are for. Lance hopes Ethan will be able to convince you to go anyway and take Adriana with him. “Not interested,” you reply while averting your eyes so Ethan doesn’t notice the tears welling up.

“Karen kicked Mimi out, too. Told her she wasn’t welcome anymore.” Your head snaps at Ethan and you smile wickedly. Finally that bitch got what she deserved. “She tried to save her reputation by claiming Lance got her pregnant, but it was another lie.”

“Lance and Mimi deserve each other,” you whisper quietly, playing with the hem of your shirt because you’re still too afraid to look Ethan in the eye. “He can’t keep it in his pants and she doesn’t want him to keep it in his pants.”

With a tight-lipped smile, Ethan rests a hand on top of yours so you’d stop fidgeting and listen very carefully. Lifting your chin up with his other hand, Ethan’s kind eyes remind you of everything you’ve given up. Lance. Your soulmate. A family. You still have your career, but what’s your career worth if you can’t share your success with the people you love?

“What Lance did… what Mimi did to you… it’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” you comment in a feeble and shaky voice. “It is. But I can’t take him back. He hurt me too much.”

Ethan nods, dropping his hand again and squeezing yours tightly. “You don’t have to take him back. He is not your soulmate anymore.” This confuses you. How can Lance not be your soulmate anymore? “The soul mark is gone,” Ethan explains gingerly, obviously unaware that the news never reached your ears.

You had completely forgotten about the soul mark, the whole reason why you and Lance decided to give it a try in the first place. Now that it’s gone, you remain soulmate-less. As you were turning your back on Lance, you didn’t see how he clawed at his shirt and revealed the skin that once carried the soul mark. You didn’t know, but if you had known, would it have changed anything?

“I – I didn’t know…,” you stutter and stammer, your head suddenly feeling very light and fuzzy, as if you’re about to pass out any moment now.

You friend cups your cheeks, telling you to focus on your breathing and look around the room for five things you can hear, five things you can see, five things you can smell and so on… These type of breathing exercises have always helped you with former panic attacks, though this time it’s harder than usual.

When you manage to level your breathing, Ethan lets go of your face again and smiles sadly. “I should go now. I promised Karen I’d be back in time for Sofia’s birthday party.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Go,” you urge your friend and give him one last hug. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t have to fly out all this way to San Fran you know. But I do appreciate it.”

“Of course I had to. You wouldn’t have listened to me if I didn’t.” He’s right, Ethan is mostly right when it comes to your stubbornness. “Just one last piece of advice?”

Knitting your eyebrows together in worry, you brace yourself for what’s to come. “Lance isn’t James. You saw the flashes, too. There’s no way you and Lance aren’t meant to be together. As for James…”

Ethan exhales deeply, taking out a picture of him and James from his wallet and handing it to you. “He would’ve wanted you to be happy. I’ve never seen you any happier than that time on Christmas with Lance when he gifted you with that piece of jewellery.”

“You made James very happy, now it’s your time to be happy, too,” Ethan concludes before kissing your cheek softly and heading out of the bar.

Lance was in his dressing room when he got the text from his manager. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Quickly the brunet texted back he wasn’t interested in seeing anyone as he figured it must be just another groupie. He had his share of extracurricular work-out last night with a busty blonde before Irina scared her away.

Regardless of his history with the mother of his child, Irina seems to look after him in a way nobody else does. It almost appears as if she fears for his immortal soul by the way she’s been keeping girls at a distance and helping him focus on the task at hand: another gold medal to add to the collection.

A knock on the door rips Lance’s thought process apart. He walks over and unlocks the door, a cloud of happiness bursting through and swinging into his arms. Adriana. “What are you doing here, butterfly?,” he gasps while twirling his daughter around. “My pretty little princess.”

Peppering kisses to her face, father and daughter laugh heartily at their reunion. Once Lance puts his daughter back on her own two feet, she explains to him how she got to Toronto. “Y/N picked me up in Ohio first and from there we flew here.”

Lance can’t believe his ears. “Y/N is here?” Adriana nods and points to the door. He opens it fully to reveal your curvy frame, holding your phone in one hand and your camera in the other.

“I’m here on official business,” you smile gently, taking a step towards him. It’s not the warm welcome he’d hoped for, but he is already tremendously relieved you’re actually here. “I gotta make some money first.”

Adriana grasps Lance’s hand and pulls him with her to sit down on one of the benches in the changing room. You take a seat on Adriana’s other side and explain to Lance how Ethan talked some sense into you.

“I was up for promotion but turned it down. I’m not an office person. I’m a photographer, I need to be on the move. I’m still working for the same company, but as a freelance like when I first came to Ohio.”

Thanking all his lucky stars, Lance bites his tongue in order not to overwhelm you with declarations of love and apologies for his stupidities. Instead he goes with a simple “I’m glad you made it.”

Holding up the VIP pass around your neck, you thank him for the invitation. “This doesn’t mean we’re okay. I’m staying in San Francisco. After the competition for the gymnastics, I’m flying back there.”

“I understand.” He’s unsure if you want to do a long distance relationship or not a relationship at all, but for now he’s really grateful he’s got a chance to talk to you again. “I’m supposed to be up in five. Adriana, could you please tell my manager I’m almost ready? You know what he looks like.”

The girl nods and pecks her father’s cheek before searching for Lance’s manager. It buys you some time, some privacy. “Close the door behind you, sweetheart,” Lance smiles, turning his body towards you. “So… where do I even start?”

He swallows a couple times first, coughing awkwardly as the words form coherent sentences in his mind. Meanwhile you wait for him to collect himself. No way you’re the first one to make amends. “I fucked up, big time. I thought you’d left me for good and -,”

Before Lance can say anything else, you cut him off. “I don’t wanna hear about that anymore. The only thing I wanna hear is how you want to fix this. Fix us.”

Your eyes mean business and Lance is getting increasingly nervous. Pulling at his shirt, he is waiting for some divine inspiration that will do just that, fix everything. “I love you,” he continues bravely, “When I first saw you, you were this sexy woman that’s friends with Ethan and Karen. Then we kissed and I realised you’re so much more.”

“I’m not a good man, Y/N, and I don’t deserve such a good woman like you. But for some reason, we are soulmates.” Lance takes a deep breath, his palms sweaty and his hands shaking.

“We are soulmates because I need you like in need air to breathe. Because stupid things like preparing guacamole for Mexican night on Thursdays is fucking sexy when you do it and even though I’ve never considered myself the domestic type, I wanna put a ring around your finger so badly I’ll even do the dishes and the laundry for the rest of my life if only you just say yet.”

His confession makes you tear up a little inside, but what follows next really opens your eyes to what kind of man has been hiding underneath all the cockiness and the innuendos. “Irina is taking Adriana back home with her after the Olympics. Which means I’ll only get to be a father two months a year when Irina is visiting her family and going on holiday with her boyfriend.”

“I didn’t realise how much I’d enjoy being a father until I sang Adriana to sleep one night. That feeling I’ve been carrying with me for so long, long before we met. And when we did meet, that feeling was stronger than ever because Y/N,” Lance takes your hands in his, running his thumbs over your soft skin and locking eyes with you in this moment of pure and unadulterated honesty.

“I want kids and I want them with you. I love you. Please, please forgive me.”


	10. Chapter 10

Your eyes are glued to the score board. It’s almost Lance’s turn and he is the last one to receive his scores. If they’re in his favour, he might just win that gold medal. If they’re not, at least he gave it a try. His routine was impeccable, his physique unmatched by the other contenders. But Lance has a reputation and that reputation doesn’t work in his favour. Let’s just hope the judges only judge his performance and not his past behaviour.

The brunet is pacing back and forth on the side-lines, cursing under his breath when the jury gives his main rival a glowing score. He is now number one and if Lance doesn’t beat his ass, it’s all been for nothing. Luckily he’s got Adriana there with him, literally crossing her fingers for her father. You’re there too, biting your lower lip in concentration.

When the scores finally come in, that overwhelming feeling of victory explodes in Lance’s heart as he jumps up in the air. He’s won his gold medal. With one arm he cuddles his daughter into his side as you rush into his other arm and cup his face, pressing your lips to his cheek and congratulating him.

“I owe it all to you,” he whispers back, his lips slanting over yours in the rush of excitement. It’s not a kiss, more like a soft and chaste peck, barely there and featherlight but enough to get your blood going to your cheeks and ears.

He’s being coaxed away from you by his manager that tells him it’s time to receive the gold medal. The way Lance owns that stage, like he is the only man on earth, draws a hearty chuckle and a cheer from your lips. Lance Tucker has done it again.

***

After he won his last Olympic gold, you and Lance sat down together to talk tactics. In no way you were ready to forgive him. You didn’t know if you’d ever be ready to do so. You made it very clear to him that San Francisco is your home now and agreed to give him one year to prove himself to you. It would be a long-distance type of relationship.

It was hard, very hard. There’s no easy way to go about this. Lance really did try to prove his worth to you, staying away from the bottle and the girls with help from Ethan and his brothers. They vouched for him and so did Karen and Melinda. You’d have regular Skype sessions and chat almost every day. This way you could keep in touch and it almost felt like you were right there with him and he was right there with you.

For a year you lived right beside each other even though you were in a different state. You really got to know each other, from your deepest fears to your most secret desires. You learnt that Lance has always had performance anxiety when it comes to competing but that he hides it well underneath a cocky grin. He always replays certain scenes and songs of classic movies in his head, such as ‘Heroes’ from David Bowie, right before he has to do his routine.

You confided in Lance about your issues with your body image and how you go to the gym because it’s the only way you can feel good about yourself. He suggested that you try taking some photographs of yourself as to promote body positivity, perhaps even posting them online. He’d encourage you by saying that he would do the same if it would help you.

Lance showed up your doorstep one day, a year later, telling you he’d sold his gym and is moving to San Fran too. You were sceptical of his spur-of-the-moment decision, but he purchased his own apartment in a different neighbourhood so it wouldn’t seem like he’s rushing things forward too quickly. He didn’t expect you to just play house straightaway. But his year was over and done and he deserved to know if he had managed to redeem himself.

You didn’t have a definite answer. Yes, he had managed to convince you that he could be in a monogamous relationship with a girl he hadn’t seen in a year. But that doesn’t take away the flashes that sometimes interrupt your thoughts, images of Lance and Mimi in bed together doing God knows what. Eventually it came down to one simple equation: did all the good that Lance had done outweigh all the bad?

Wondering how all those other women do it, forgive their man after they’ve fucked up, the thought comes to mind that he never was really your man. He wanted to be your man but you pushed him away, for obvious reasons. You never gave him a chance. He never gave you a chance either and always wanted to dive into things head first, or cock first, and heart later.

The circumstances were never ideal, you were still grieving and Lance had never experienced actual love before, therefore wasn’t ready for it either when it suddenly came along like a wrecking ball.

So maybe it was time to bring that year into practice and give each other a real chance for once.

***

After some time and a long series of dates, Lance stayed over for the first time. Summer was approaching and Adriana would fly in to San Francisco in three weeks, so you had a lot of planning to do. For this first summer, Adriana stayed over at Lance and sometimes they’d camp at your place. Once that summer had passed and you were well into your second year of your relationship, you found a nice house to move in together with an extra bedroom for Adriana.

Your relationship works in a weird way. You’re often travelling for your job while Lance still teaches and sometimes competes, so there isn’t a lot of time you’re able to spend together. Yet you make it work in the best way possible. There are still many downs, for instance when one of the girls Lance trains is getting a little too handsy and your suspicion flares up again. Then Lance is quick to dismiss any doubts you might have, not with actions like making love as you would expect, but with words that show his love and adoration to the fullest.

Now you’re three years into your steady relationship with the gymnast and things are starting to itch for both of you. Lance is already 38, turning 39 soon, and is jealous of the domestic life Ethan and Karen and Melinda and Mike have created for themselves. Your motherly hormones are kicking in as well, your womb remaining empty. So Lance decides to do something about it.

It happens one, sultry autumn night when the heat of the summer hasn’t quite vanished yet and Adriana is already well on her way back to her mother. Lance is cooking dinner, swaying his hips to the melody of the music. You spank his ass and give the flesh a good squeeze, giggling like a little girl.

“I’m making your favourite,” he laughs when he bats away your hand while trying to ambush his butt a third time. “It’s a special day today!”

Leaning against the kitchen table and admiring Lance’s broad shoulders, you hum a smug “Is that so?”

Turning around and turning off the cooking fire, he takes you in his arms and presses long, proper kiss to your lips. “Four years ago this day is when we shared our very first kiss. At the bar, as part of a bet.”

“Oh yes,” you gasp in between butterfly kisses, “I remember.” A warm smile graces both your lips when you make out, hands touching each other appreciatively. “How could I ever forget?”

Returning to his pots and pans after dipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss for a moment before breaking away, leaving you whining and wanting for more, he asks you to grab the bottle of champagne he bought earlier today. When you pick it up from the shelve, you notice there’s a small velvet box hidden behind it.

As you pass along the bottle of champagne to your boyfriend, you also show Lance the little box. He replies very mysteriously, telling you to open it if you want to know what’s inside, while he pops open the bottle of champagne. Curiously, you take a peek and when you do, it’s as if you’re nailed to the spot. Inside the small, velvet box is a gorgeous ring. An engagement ring.

When you turn around to bombard Lance with questions, you yelp as he goes down on one knee. Gently taking the box from your quivering fingers, he holds up the ring and pops the one question he’s been dying to ask all day.

“Y/N Y/L/N, my soulmate,” he begins in a tender voice, extremely nervous as well. “My soulmate,” he repeats to show you how absolutely sure he is about this.

“We were well on our way to being a real couple when I caused you so much pain. But you’ve given me a second chance and every single second I’ve been trying to love you with all my heart, treat you like the true queen you are and redeem myself for all my wrongdoings.”

“Oh, Lance,” you sigh shakily, but he isn’t done yet.

“Y/N, will you please do me the honour of being my wife and marry me?”

There’s so much hope in his eyes, so much hope and love that it’s impossible for you to say no. Even after one too many bumps in the road, he still stuck by your side through it all. Even after being separated from each other for what seemed like eternity, you found your way back to him. So there is only one answer, one answer you’ve been waiting to give your whole life, with your whole heart.

“Yes.”

***

“I get that you might wanna get married in San Fran or even in Ohio, but seriously? Toronto? Of all places?”

Karen is gawking at the invitation that just arrived in her mailbox this morning. As Karen can’t immediately fly over to San Fran because Sofia has been taken ill, you and Melinda organised a little facetime session so you can catch up on some wedding details.

“Yes, it’s where Lance own his last Olympic gold. It means so much to him,” you defend your choice of wedding venue.

“But what’s in it for you?,” Karen queries with a suspicious glance in her eyes. “What did Lance promise you.”

Laughing away her comment, you tell Karen she’s got nothing to worry about. “I promised him there would be lots of gold elements and he promised me he would come to the cake tasting with me. That’s all.”

Karen hums, still a little unconvinced, but she can see you’re over the moon even though you’re buried in wedding arrangements, so she drops the subject. While going over the arch of roses and how the gardener will spray them all with gold paint, Melinda announces that your tiara is finished and ready to be picked up, followed by a text from your designer that your dress is ready to be fitted.

“Can’t believe it’s almost there. He proposed to be last autumn and now it’s spring!,” you giggle excitedly, looking up the flight information for Karen and some other guests.

After making sure everything is on schedule and everyone knows which part they will play at the wedding, you say goodbye to Karen and hope to see her at your wedding in Toronto, which of course she wouldn’t dare to miss out on.

On the flight to Toronto, the night flight on the eve before you wedding, which you’re undertaking with only Melinda as you can’t see Lance before the wedding, you’re always thinking about how he will react when he first sees you in your dress. It’s the only thing keeping you sane at the moment, apart from Melinda’s words of encouragement when you fear you’ll be sick during take-off.

The venue is beyond anything you could’ve possibly imagined. It’s in the garden of a beautiful mansion, where the reception will take place if the weather is not in your favour. If it does stay sunny, the reception will be held in another section of the garden.

The arch with gold-painted flowers is being installed as we speak, and the gold details on the tables and the runway are being monitored by Karen to make sure everything is 100% correct and just as you want it.

Then the time has come for you to slip into your dress, get your hair and make-up done as the first guests have started to trickle in. Melinda hired a professional make-up artist and a hairdresser and Karen is handling the alcohol to help all three of you with the nerves. She keeps your mind off your worries by talking about how Ethan is Lance’s best man and how flattered she is to be your maid of honour.

When all is finished and you’ve hoisted yourself into your wedding dress, chugging a glass of mimosa down your throat, you give Karen and Melinda one final hug before heading to the arch of roses where Lance is already waiting for you.

“Thank you so much, both of you. For everything.”

“Don’t cry, Y/N, or you’ll ruin your make-up!,” Melinda chuckles through the tears, Karen the only one who can still keep some kind of composure, carefully wiping away everyone’s teardrops with her handkerchief and hoping the make-up will hold long enough.

“It’s supposed to be waterproof, girls,” she laughs happily, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m so proud of you. Of both of you. Lance has really straightened out and changed his way for the better.”

“I know,” you nod and with those last two words, you join Adriana who serves as your flower girl while Melinda and Karen already go ahead to the flower arch and the priest, a nervous Lance chewing on his bottom lip in anxious anticipation. He is dressed to the nines, subtle gold accents incorporated in his wedding tux.

The music starts to play, which is Lance’s cue that his gorgeous fiancé is approaching. Angling his body so he can properly see you, his lips curl into the biggest shit-eating grin upon first catching a glimpse of your gold and white wedding dress, a little Grecian crown weaved into your tresses. Of all the women he’s courted, slept with and dated, there’s only one woman who will forever hold a veto on his heart and that is Y/N, soon to be Y/N Tucker.

When you stand by his side, his hand automatically interlaces his fingers with yours, eager for that last touch as love birds before the first tough as newlyweds. The priest’s words are completely lost on the both of you, gazing lovingly and maybe even a bit lustfully into each other’s eyes until it’s time for your vows.

Lance is up first, clearing his throat and addressing you and only you. He didn’t write his vows to please you and the crowd. No, he wrote these short but sweet vows for only one woman.

“Y/N, all the gold in the world is nothing compared to you, and I should know because I’ve won a lot of gold.” The crowd laughs at his comment but he only cares about your cheeky smile, the sparks in your eyes vividly clear.

“You aren’t a woman easily intimidated, determined and head-strong, just what I love so much about you. You’ve got passion and fire, which you pour into your photography and into our love life.” This prompts you to squeeze his hands very hard and give him a chastising look, but it all leaves Lance unphased.

Lance asks the ring from Ethan, who reaches into his chest pocket and hand the delicately crafted wedding ring to his friend. “Y/N, I love you. I would die for you. My heart is in your hands and with this ring I hope to prove to you that I mean it.”

“Forever isn’t long enough for me to love you, but I sure as hell will make every single day you put up with me worth it.”

As he slides the ring up your finger, you notice his hands are shaking too. You both smile brightly at each other, Lance barely keeping it together, and share a short kiss much to the glee of your guests and to the surprise of the priest.

Now it’s your turn, and you too only speak to Lance and forget about the crowd. “Lance Tucker. It’s safe to say you’re not the man of my dreams.” Your guests suck in a deep breath, surprised by this sudden admission during your vows.

“Because if you were a dream, you wouldn’t be standing here with me.” You notice Ethan and his two brothers, standing behind Lance, rolls their eyes as the suspense leaves their body.

“People know you as a gymnast, a gold medallist, a player and an asshole.” Lance’s smile tightens a little and his shoulders tense up. “But what they don’t know is that you’re also a great father to your daughter, a wonderful man to love and last but not least, my true soulmate.”

Lance is blinking fast to keep the tears at bay. He never knew he was the sentimental type, but for just this once he is making an exception. Bringing your entwined hands to his lips, he tenderly kisses your knuckles, whispering an “I love you”.

“I’ve always believed in fate, and thus I believe fate his brought us together. I might never have competed for any gold medals, let alone won Olympic gold, but today… while I’m standing here with you…”

It’s getting harder for you to form any decent sentences and you need a minute to swallow the lump in your throat. Lance whispers to take your time, his smile reaching his eyes and they crinkle in such an adorable way, it renews your courage to express how you truly feel about him.

“You are my trophy, Lance. The trophy I never thought I’d ever win but also the only trophy I’d ever wanna win. I hope you know you’re reason the sky is still blue and with this ring I promise that this will never change. I love you, Lance Tucker, with all my heart.”

Melinda catches Karen sniffling a little, as they both know the true meaning behind this sentence. In your vows to James, you promised to each other to be the reason the sky is blue, meaning your love is unquestionable and unconditional. For you to promise to Lance that he is the reason the sky is still blue shows just how strong your love for him is.

After you’ve slid the ring on Lance’s finger, the priest now gives you his blessing to kiss each other. Faster than lightning he crashes his lips to yours, cupping your cheeks while you card your fingers through his hair. The moment your skin comes into contact with his, one last soulmate flash erupts as it is not uncommon for a flash to occur when two soulmates are unified.

The flash is brief yet depicts Lance in the hospital, holding a baby in his arms while sitting next to you on the bed so you can lean on him as you breastfeed your other new-born baby. When your lips part again, Lance searches your eyes for the answer to a question he doesn’t need solving anyway.

“Are you…?,” he exclaims with a boyish grin.

“Yes, Lance, yes! I’m pregnant!,” you confirm before reconnecting in a joyous kiss.

Eight months later you give birth to twins, Arthur Lancelot and Aurora Y/N/N Tucker. The four of you have moved from San Francisco to New Orleans when Lance got a job as the coach for a gymnastics team that is rumoured to produce a next gold medal in the upcoming Olympic Games. You quit your job as a freelancer and now own your own thriving photography blog and business.

Adriana still visits over the summer and is contemplating following in her parents’ footsteps. Irina started training not long after Olympics in Toronto, a little bit annoyed by but understanding of her daughter’s wish to be as great as her father. Lance might have won another gold medal, Irina never did.

Every night when you go to sleep, you rest your head on Lance’s chest, trailing your fingers over the spot where the old soulmate mark used to be. Then Lance would sigh deeply, taking your hand in his and after kissing your palm, whispering softly that you shouldn’t dwell on it too much.

He’d redirect it to his hip where there is now a new mark. It appeared on your wedding night, after you’ve consummated your marriage, a small mark on both your hips, a token of your soulmate bond.


End file.
